


Winter in Boston

by thatcrazywriterley



Series: Seasons of Love Series [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Matchmaking, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 06:42:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 40,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17017695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatcrazywriterley/pseuds/thatcrazywriterley
Summary: When Tatiana Dalca came to America to visit her cousin, Sebastian Stan, she didn't expect to be set up on a blind date. Especially when that blind date was Chris Evans. Over a snowy Boston winter, Chris and Tatiana get to know each other and see what might blossom.





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

            “You’ve got to be kidding me!” The wind cut through me like a thousand sharp-edged knives. I ducked my face deeper into the scarf wrapped around my neck and stuffed my hands further into my pockets. Overhead, the sky swirled with thick grey clouds. The air smelled like snow.

            Beside me, my cousin laughed. He tugged me against his side, his bulk putting off enough heat to block some of the November chill. “You’ve lived through worse, Tati.”

            If it hadn’t been so cold, I would have rolled my eyes. As it was, I could barely get a deep enough breath to swear at him in Romanian. My breath puffed out in front of me in little clouds. Unfortunately, I wasn’t upset enough with him to move away from his warmth. His laughter rumbled through his chest.

            “Ah,” Sebastian chastised. “What would _bunicǎ_ say if she heard you talking like that, Little Dalca?”

            Part of me wanted to punch him, but I had two pretty good reasons not to. One, it would mean taking my hand out of my pocket. And it was really warm in there. Two, I’d likely end up with a fractured knuckle from hitting his marble-chiseled midsection. That wasn’t something I wanted to do. Well, I suppose there was a third reason. I just loved Sebastian too much to try to hurt him. Physically at least.

            “Don’t forget that she’s seen all of your movies, Sebastian. Me swearing isn’t going to be a surprise to her.” We were talking too much. My teeth were chattering, and I shivered so hard I thought I was going to break a bone or two. “Why did we have to walk again?”

            Sebastian waved his arm around like everything was crystal clear. “It’s snowing! And it’s pretty outside.”

            “It’s fucking freezing outside.”

            Rolling his eyes— _damn him, it’s too cold for this_ —he tucked me tighter against his side and grunted. “We’re only a few blocks away. I’ll get you the biggest, hottest cup of coffee I can. _Fǎgǎdui_.”

            I gave him a firm nod, acknowledging his vow to get me something nice and warm when we got to our destination. Before we got too far, though, I looked up and fixed him with a firm glare. “And don’t call me ‘Little Dalca,’ okay?”

            He didn’t answer, but the curve of his mouth let me know he heard me. Again, I was struck with the urge to punch him. And once again, self-preservation stopped me. _Zeu_ , Sebastian was lucky he was my favorite cousin. Otherwise I would have stayed in Spain like I’d planned.

 

            The bell over the door dinged as we walked in, a wave of cold air rushing in behind us. The restaurant smelled like cinnamon and cocoa mixed with pastries and bread. I took a deep breath and felt my stomach growl. My fingers were stiff as I unwrapped my scarf from around my neck and tucked it into the pocket of my coat, but warmth was slowly seeping into my skin. Sebastian tugged off his gloves and waved me forward to a table at the back of the restaurant.

            He chose the seat that put his back against the wall, so I sat across the four-top-table. We both shrugged out of our jackets and hung them over the backs of our chairs. I picked up a menu from the center of the table while Sebastian flagged down a waitress and asked for two coffees.

            I didn’t look up from the menu, but I smirked when I heard him give the order. Most of the time, I spoke English. But it was easier to slip into Romanian—our native language—when I had Sebastian around. I laughed a little.

            “You remember how I like my coffee?” I asked in Romanian.

            Sebastian grinned at me as the waitress walked away. Warmth seeped into my soul when he started speaking. I loved Sebastian’s voice, and it brought back memories of being a kid in Constanta when his mother would play the piano and he would sing lullabies and nursery rhymes to me. It reminded me of happy times.

            “You act like I haven’t seen you in years, Little Dalca.” He grinned, knowing how much I really hated that. “Milk, two sugars, and a little bit of cinnamon on top. Never once, in fifteen years, have you ordered anything else.”

            “I’m going to have to order something else, just to keep you on your toes. Seabass.” I tried very hard to keep a straight face. Sometimes friends from home would send me videos of Sebastian doing press tours and interviews and the hilarity that he got up to always made me laugh. In fact, I had a notebook in my desk drawer with a thousand things I needed to tease him about when we met.

            Sebastian was about to say something when the waitress came back with our coffee. I ordered a soup and half sandwich, while he ordered a chicken plate that made me wonder how he had enough room in his stomach for it. I reached out for my coffee and wrapped my hands around the mug, trying to absorb a little more heat.

            “Thank you for coming, Tatiana,” he said quietly, slipping back into English. For some reason, his voice always sounded deeper when he was being sincere. He smiled, and I couldn’t help but smile back.

            “ _Cu plǎcere_ ,” I said warmly. “Although I’m reconsidering leaving Barcelona to come to freezing cold-as-hell and boring Boston.”

            From over my shoulder, I heard a deep chuckle that made shivers run up my spine. “Boston isn’t boring. Although, I’ll give you it’s cold as fuck.”

            Sebastian beamed as he stood up and came around the table to embrace the newcomer. I twisted in my chair to see my cousin hugging another guy who was as solidly built as he was. The guy had a shock of short but dark hair and a well-kept beard and moustache. His eyes were a bright blue that crinkled as he smiled at my cousin.

            The two of them talked quietly for a moment before Sebastian turned around, his arm still around the shoulder of Mr. Blue Eyes. They both grinned at me.

            “Tatiana,” Sebastian said, squeezing the guy’s shoulder and giving him a shake. “This is Chris. Chris, my cousin, Tatiana Dalca.”

            It took me all of thirty seconds to realize who it was. I felt absolutely stupid that I hadn’t recognized him as soon as he walked up, but that tended to happen when I was around Sebastian. He was like my brother, the two of us having grown up together in Constanta with little else to keep us occupied. I had a bad habit of ignoring everything else when he was around.

            I stood up, realizing for the first time that I was blushing. I tried to smile confidently, but it didn’t help that Sebastian was making google eyes at me. He was really enjoying this.

            My first instinct was to hold out my hand, but before I could get that far, Chris leaned forward and drew me into a hug. _Zeu_ , he was as big and solid as Sebastian. And just as warm. He hugged me as if we’d known each other for years. It was kind of nice.

            Chris smiled and ducked his head shyly. “Sorry, force of habit. Seb’s been talking about you so much, I feel like I know you.”

            I cut a glare to Sebastian, watching him fight back a cackle. I was, as they say, on the struggle bus that day. It took me a second to realize what this was. And when I did, I really wanted to punch Sebastian right in his face.

            It was a set up.

            _Rahat._ Shit.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

 

            Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the moment that Sebastian knew that I’d figured out what he’d done. The corners of his mouth turned up in a grin, and I was overcome—one again—by the urge to punch him. I tried to get myself together, to avoid looking like a complete idiot in front of Chris Evans. But, sadly, I think I’d already done just that.

            “Tati,” I finally managed to say, my voice squeaking just a little bit. I wanted to melt into the floor and disappear. At least then I’d be warm. I cleared my throat and fought the blush that crept its way up my cheeks. “Only my _bunicǎ_ calls me Tatiana.”

            Chris’ face lit up in a smile. He tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans and leaned back just a little. He had an easy kind of posture that was relaxing, in an odd kind of way. Sebastian clapped him on the back and guided him over to the table. I shot my cousin an angry glare behind Chris’ back. Sebastian faked a cough to hide a chuckle.

            “Please,” Chris said, gesturing to my seat. He stood there, a faint smile on his face as he waited for me to sit. I felt the blush burning even brighter up my cheeks.

            I sat down and tugged my chair toward the table. My fingers were trembling as I reached for my coffee. Melting into the floor was looking better and better every second.

            Chris leaned back in his chair and looked at Sebastian, a slightly upset expression on his face. “Seb… You didn’t?”

            “Didn’t what?” Sebastian had the decency to look embarrassed.

            “You didn’t tell me you were trying to set me up!” I hissed in Romanian. I threw in a few curses for good measure, hoping my cousin knew just how upset I was going to be when Chris wasn’t there to see.

            “Would you have shown up if I had?”

            I tried not to let my face show exactly how surprised and frustrated I was, but I couldn’t guarantee that it was working. “At least then I’d have had an option.”

            Chris was twisting his head back and forth, following the to and fro of Romanian across the table. His brow was furrowed, and he looked more than a little confused. After a few moments of Sebastian and me going back and forth, he waved his hand in between us. Sebastian immediately stopped talking, his mouth halfway open. I couldn’t help but giggle. It wasn’t often that someone could shut Sebastian Stan up so thoroughly.

            “Tati,” Chris said, a blush brightening under his beard. “I’m so sorry. When Seb mentioned this… he said you were interested. I didn’t think he’d blindside you.”

            I schooled my features into something resembling contrition, but I knew I was on the verge of laughing at the absurdity of it all. “It’s fine. I shouldn’t be surprised. Now I know why he was so insistent we walk. _Fara scapare_.”

            _No escape._

            “I don’t know what the hell you just said, but it sounded really sexy.” The way Chris’ brows shot up was enough to let me know that he hadn’t really intended to say that out loud. His blush deepened, and he covered his mouth with his hand. “Shit.”

            Sebastian chose that moment to head to the bathroom. I watched him go with a scowl on my face. My brain tumbled through a thousand ideas of things I was going to do to him when I got out of here. The list started out with a long detail of torture in English. By the time I got near the end, they devolved into Romanian tortures and boogeymen that I would throw him to in the dark.

            Silence descended. I sipped my coffee, trying to think of something suitable to say. I got up the courage to look at Chris out of the corner of my eye. He looked as uncomfortable as I did. My heart went out to him. It wasn’t his fault that my cousin was an _idiotule_.

            “So…”

            “So…”

            …

            …

            “Sebastian has a bad habit of doing things without telling me,” I said quietly. My lips tipped up in a small smile. “He means well, but he’s a…”

            Chris chuckled. “Meatball.”

            I laughed a little, letting a grin creep over my mouth. “I don’t think I understand what that is supposed to mean. But it fits.”

            “Bonehead. Idiot. Jackass.” Chris emphasized every word with a nod of his head.

            I rolled my eyes, sipping my coffee a little more comfortably. “Fits perfectly.”

            The waitress came by, seeing a new addition to our table, and asked for Chris’ order. It seemed he was a regular—a fact given away mostly by the fact that people weren’t going crazy about him being there. He asked for a coffee to start and a meal that was a rival to Sebastian’s in size and meats. I rolled my eyes.

            Chris grinned at me, a little upturn of the right corner of his mouth. I got a flash of bright white teeth and a sparkle in his eyes. I had to admit (although I’d never do it to Sebastian) that Chris was really handsome. But I was still pissed at my cousin for setting me up and not even telling me about it!

            I was surprised by the rush of warmth that I felt seeing him grinning. I looked away, fighting a smile of my own. “ _Doamne ajuta-ma_ ,” I mumbled.

            Chris looked down, shaking his head. “You know, I’ve heard Seb speaking Romanian for three or four years now and it never sounds that good.”

            There was no stopping the smile that crept over my face that time. At that point, there was no escaping the fact that Sebastian had set me up on a date (for lack of a better word) with his friend. And, as much as I didn’t want to admit it, I was starting to enjoy Chris’ company.

            “I’m going to kill him,” I said, drinking the last bit of my coffee. I made a mental note to get a soda from the waitress when she came back by. “Just so you know.”

            Chris chuckled. “I’ll hold him down for you.”

            We fell into an easy silence after that. The waitress brought his food and came back quickly with a soda for me. It was only then that I realized that Sebastian had been gone for a ridiculously long time. A glance at my companion let me know he’d noticed too.

            “If he climbed out the bathroom window, I swear… _O sǎ-l omor ȋncet._ ” I sat my spoon on the side of my plate with a clatter. “It wouldn’t be the first time he’s done it. I don’t know why I’d be surprised.”

            “That sounded suspiciously like cursing,” Chris said, sitting his knife and fork on his plate. He wiped his mouth and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the edge of the table. His chin settled on his folded hands, and I couldn’t help but notice how pink his lips were.

            _Are they soft? Is he a good kisser?_

            I shook my head slightly, trying to clear those thoughts from my mind. I definitely didn’t want to start thinking things like that! “Not cursing, but close enough. Murder threats.”

            “Ah,” he murmured. His body was slowly turning so he was facing me full on. It was a little disconcerting to be the focus of all of his attention.

            _Sebastian, I swear, I am going to rip your eyes out with a rusty nail_ , I thought.

            Chris looked away, dropping his head a bit so that his mouth was hidden behind his hands. He looked kind of sad. “I’m really sorry, Tati. That Seb put you in this position. Trust me that I’ll let him have it next time we’re doing a fight scene. I won’t pull any punches. Might even throw a few that aren’t choreographed.”

            He leaned back before reaching into his pocket, drawing out a set of folded bills. He put a fifty on the table and made to stand up. “It was really nice finally meeting you, Tatiana Dalca. It really was.”

            Something like panic rose up in me, and I reached out to grab his hand before he could stand up completely. His hands were warm, large and a little roughened by callouses. “ _Nu, stați_.”

            “Stay?”

            I nodded, feeling suddenly self-conscious. I realized I was still holding his hand and let go as if his touch burned. I tucked my hair behind my ears with both hands, trying not to look at him.

            Chris smiled in an easy way, a lopsided smile that was bigger and brighter on the right side of his mouth. His eyes were shining, and he looked happy. I smiled back, hoping my face wasn’t burning brightly.

            Just then (I mean, when else would he have shown up), Sebastian plopped back into his chair. He rubbed his hands together and smiled. “Well, kids, what did I miss?”


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

 

            By the time Sebastian and I closed the door to my hotel room that evening, I was practically steaming. Regardless of whether or not I had thoroughly enjoyed Chris’ company, I was still beyond pissed off with the way my cousin had gone about this. Lucky he was the first one in the door, because I would have slammed it in his face and locked it in a flash.

            “You stupid, thoughtless, inconsiderate, stupid, idiotic, stupid, moron!” I shouted in Romanian. The angrier I got, the louder my shouting became. Sebastian knew from personal experience that my voice could get high enough that only dogs could hear it if I really got a roll going.

            “You said stupid more than once,” he murmured calmly. He stood across the room from me, his back pressed against the wall and his bigger-than-my-head arms crossed over his chest.

            “That’s because you are! Do you have any idea how I felt? You backed me into a corner,” I fumed, letting my fury and fear and anxiety bleed into my voice. I fought the urge to fling myself onto the bed. Part of me wanted to just let it go. After all, I _had_ enjoyed meeting Chris.

            But I hadn’t enjoyed being tossed into it blind.

            Sebastian sighed and crossed the room, a bashful expression twisting his features. He held his hands out, palms up, as if he were approaching a wounded and feral animal. I watched him warily, ready to reach out and punch his smug nose if he pissed me off any more. He sighed again and took me gently by the biceps.

            “I’m sorry,” he finally admitted. “I shouldn’t have tricked you. But I know how you are, Little Dalca. If I’d told you I was trying to set you up—even with Chris—you would have come up with a dozen excuses to avoid it.”

            “I…”

            My cousin shook his head, silencing me. “You hide so much, Little Dalca. I don’t know why. But I don’t want you to be alone. One day, I won’t be here…”

            In a moment, my frustration poured out of me and onto the carpet beneath me. I let go of my anger and wrapped my arms around Sebastian’s waist, burying my face against his chest. His heart beat beneath my ear. It was soothing. In my relief, I slipped back into English.

            “What do you want me to do, _frate-vǎrul_? Are you expecting me to move to the US? Give up what I’m trying to build at home?”

            Sebastian sank onto the edge of the bed and sighed, hugging me against his side. “No, _sora-verișoara_. I don’t want you to give up what you have. I know you love Constanta, being near _bunicǎ_. And that’s wonderful. I just want you to have a better life.”

            “Just because I came to America wouldn’t mean I’d have a better life, Sebastian. You know what would happen. I’d end up working in a restaurant or somewhere worse while I tried to save for my citizenship.” I wiped my eyes and looked up at him. “People in America don’t like immigrants very much right now.”

            There wasn’t much Sebastian could say to that. He leaned back on the bed, taking me with him so that my head rested against his shoulder. I stared at the wall over the mountain of Sebastian’s chest and sighed.

            “Why should I even try this when I’m just going to be going back to Constanta after Christmas?”

            I felt Sebastian lift his head and look at me. If I knew him at all—and I was certain that I did—he was smirking. “What makes you think Chris wouldn’t come to see you in Constanta? What makes you think you would have to pay for everything on your own?”

            I rolled away from him and covered my face with my hands. “I think Chris Evans has more to do that go traipsing across Europe to visit a girl like me.”

            Sebastian pushed my hands away so that he could meet my eyes. “ _I think_ Chris Evans would be a fool not to chase you all the way to Siberia.”

            Despite the little bit of darkness that had settled over me, I couldn’t help but laugh. “As long as he does it in the Cap costume. With the beard.”

            Sebastian laughed and dropped a kiss on my forehead. “It’s time for you to go to bed, Little Dalca. I’ll be just upstairs if you need me.”

            He closed the door behind him, presumably heading up to his a-little-bit-swankier-than-mine hotel room. I headed into the bathroom and ran hot water into the claw-footed tub. I poured a few bubbles into the steaming water and sat on the edge until it filled up enough. Then, I twisted up my hair and tossed my heavy layers on the floor, making a mental note to pick them up for the laundry later.

            I sank into the water and leaned my head back on a rolled up towel, closing my eyes. As I drifted between waking and daydreaming, I couldn’t help the flash of bright blue eyes and a dancing smile running through my mind. Like a schoolgirl, I pressed my fingertips to my lips and giggled. I wouldn’t argue that Chris wasn’t handsome and that I wouldn’t enjoy getting to know him better, but I wouldn’t kid myself into thinking that he was willing to do the same thing. Regardless of whose cousin I was, I was just a girl from Constanta, Romania, who had nothing to offer someone like Chris Evans.

            _Zeu_ , I thought, sinking lower into the water. _Just kill me now. Please?_

 

            The next morning, I woke to a light knocking on my hotel room door. My hair was in a messy knot, and there were red marks across my cheek from where I’d slept on my arm. God only knew that my breath was horrible, and I probably had crusty gunk in the corners of my eyes. On my way to the door, I tugged a sweater over my camisole. My toes scrunched into the carpet, cursing at me because the room was so cold.

            I let out a string of swears at the frozen November weather in Boston. _I really should have stayed in Barcelona_. Yawning, I pulled open the door without looking through the peephole.

            That was a bad idea.

            On the other side of the door, Chris Evans stood in a warm looking blue thermal shirt, well fitted jeans, and a pair of boots. He wore a fleece North Face jacket over it all and a Red Socks cap. In his gloved hands, he held up a drink tray with three coffees and a bag that smelled like heaven.

            “Good morning,” he said with a bashful smile. In an instant, he took in my state of dress and rolled his eyes. “Fuck, he did it again!”

            After our conversation last night, I was slowly going beyond getting upset with Sebastian when he did things like this. His heart was in the right place, even if his brain wasn’t working properly. I smiled genuinely, then covered my mouth with my hand.

            _Zeu, please,_ I begged, _don’t let him smell my nasty morning breath_.

            “I’ll deal with him later,” I mumbled, waving my free hand toward the ceiling. “Come in. Uh, just let me… uh…”

            Chris blushed charmingly and ducked his head as he walked past me to sit the coffee and what I desperately hoped was muffins on the little table by the window. He pulled off his gloves and tucked them in his jacket pocket. “Um, sure. Yes. I’ll just…”

            He looked around, trying to find a place to retreat. Unfortunately, my room wasn’t anything like what he was probably used to. Sebastian might have helped to pay for me to stay in New England for the holidays, but that didn’t mean there was enough for _both_ of us to have swanky rooms. I’d taken the standard issue without complaint.

            “Wake the meatball?” I offered.

            Chris laughed, a deep and genuine laugh that started in his stomach and made his whole torso lean forward. He pressed his hand over his heart and beamed. “Yeah. I’ll go wake the meatball.”

            As soon as Chris was out the door, I booked it to the bathroom. One look at myself in the mirror and I was horrified at what I saw. I looked like I had just rolled out of bed (which I had) after a really deep, ugly sleep. Swearing at Sebastian under my breath (I might understand why he did it, but that didn’t mean I liked it), I started untangling my hair and brushing it back into a decent knot. I brushed my teeth and flossed and rinsed. Three times. Then I washed my face.

            I stepped back into the bedroom to grab some day clothes from the closet just as Sebastian and Chris walked in. I had forgotten that Sebastian had the extra keycard to my room, just in case. Actual clothes would have been fantastic, would have made me feel on footing that was a little bit more equal to Chris, but I didn’t really have the chance now.

            Besides, Sebastian was in a plain grey t-shirt and flannel pants.

            I followed the two of them over to the little sitting area in front of the window and blushed a little when Chris gestured for me to sit first. I sat on the two-person sofa and tucked my feet up beneath me. My toes were still upset with me because they were so cold. Sebastian took the armchair that looked way too small with his big frame in it. That left…

            I glared at my cousin and mouthed _du-te dracului_. He had, quite expertly (and deviously), left the only open seat the one next to me.

            At the table, Chris began handing out coffees. Each cup had a name on it. When he passed the one with my name on it to me, I was surprised to see the order listed down the side. _Milk. Three sugars. Cinnamon topping_.

            Sneaky, sneaky Sebastian.

            Next, Chris handed me a blueberry muffin that I swore was as big as his head. It had big sugar sprinkles on top, and it was perfectly warmed.

            He took the seat next to me, his bulk making the sofa seem smaller. But he moved as far to the other end as he could, giving me enough space to be comfortable. “I hope blueberry is okay. I didn’t know what kind you liked.”

            I smiled, balancing the muffin on the edge of the sofa while I wrapped my hands around the coffee cup, soaking in its warmth. “But you got a heads up on the coffee.”

            Chris had the grace to look chagrined. “I asked the waitress last night.”

            Something warm trickled into my chest that nothing to do with the coffee.

            _Rahat_. Shit.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

 

            Chris stayed for a short while that morning, talking mostly with Sebastian, but he made every effort to include me in the conversations. The two of them told stories of their time filming together, laughing that way that guys have when they’re trying to one-up each other in toughness. I curled against the end of the sofa and had my coffee and muffin while I listened, surprised to find that I was learning things about my cousin that I didn’t know before.

            After a while, my legs started to ache from being bent and tucked beneath me for so long. I tried to stretch out, but found that sitting up straight meant I leaned closer to Chris on the other end of the sofa. Every time I tried to scoot further away, I felt like I was rolling toward his bulk.

            Sebastian started chuckling from his place at the table as he watched me try to find a comfortable position. He tried to hide his face behind his coffee, but I glared at him anyway.

            Chris looked at me sideways, his left brow arched in a questioning expression. “Is everything okay?”

            _Fute_ , I thought. I tried to look away, feeling more than a little embarrassed. “My legs are stiff, and I’m going to end up in your lap if I try to sit up like this.” The words were out before I could think about them. I covered my face with my hands. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

             Chris looked down, a little grin on his face and color rising higher in his cheeks. He looked suddenly shy and bashful. After a moment, he shook his head and reached over toward me gently. “May I?” he asked before he actually touched me.

            I nodded, more than a little unsure what he was going to do. His fingers were warm and rough but gentle as he guided me to stretch my legs out and drape them over his lap. The position was remarkably comfortable, and he was amazingly warm.

            “Jesus!” he exclaimed when he touched my toes. “You’re freezing.”

            Sebastian decided it was time to join the conversation. “She’s always been that way. It could be a hundred outside and her fingers and toes are solid ice.”

            I shrugged. “I’m cold natured, I guess.”

            “But you don’t like winter?” Chris said skeptically. He wrapped his hands around my feet, the warmth from his fingers seeping into my skin. I fought the urge to squeal and snuggle closer into his human-furnace-like warmth.

            When I didn’t answer, Chris gave me a small smile. It was like he sensed my unease with being the focus of attention. He went back to talking to Sebastian, but he kept his hands on my feet, rubbing his palms back and forth to keep my toes warm.

            Socks would have been more practical, but I had to admit that I kind of liked it. Maybe it was because I was Sebastian’s cousin. Obviously, Sebastian had been talking about me to Chris. So maybe it was more than just that? I wasn’t going to argue. My feet were finally warm.

 

            It was almost two hours later when Chris left. Sebastian saw him to the door and promised to call him in a while to take him up on the offer of a tour of Boston. I was still sitting on the sofa, my feet pressed into the cushion where Chris had been, trying to soak up the remaining heat. I rolled the coffee cup with my name on it between my palms, looking at my forever order written down the side.

            _I asked the waitress last night_. He didn’t ask Sebastian. He went out of his way to do something for me.

            Sebastian sank onto the floor in front of me, his lips tilted up at the corners. “You like him?”

            I wanted to glare at my cousin. I wanted to glare and throw a few choice swears his direction, but I couldn’t bring myself to be snarky. My head fell back on the arm of the sofa so I wouldn’t have to see my cousin’s smug expression.

            “ _Da_ ,” I said quietly.

            For a moment, it was quiet. Then I sensed Sebastian turning so that his back was pressed against the sofa, his head leaning back to rest against my side. “He likes you too, you know.”

            A comfortable warmth started in my belly and threatened to spread through my whole body. I wanted to believe him. Chris was nice, and he seemed so genuine and warm (no pun intended). As much as I didn’t want to throw away everything I had worked so hard to do back home in Constanta, I _did_ want to get to know Chris Evans better.

            “As your cousin.” I was surprised how much the words stung as they passed across my tongue.

            “As a person,” Sebastian said firmly. He was quiet for a moment before he spoke again. “As a woman.”

            I felt as if I’d been punched in the gut, but in a good way. If it was possible to feel like a punch was a good thing. Suddenly, I was faced with the very real possibility that Chris was interested in me. Like, _interested_ interested.

            “How do you know?” My voice came out quietly, almost as if I didn’t trust myself to speak.

            Sebastian fumbled in his pajama pocket for his phone. He switched it on and flipped through until he found his text messages. He held the phone toward me, but snatched it back right before I got my hands on it.

            “If I show you this, you have to swear you’ll never _ever_ tell Chris. Do you understand me?”

            I rolled my eyes. “Are you about to show me the secrets of the MCU?”

            Sebastian feigned a gasp. “Shush! Snipers!” He chuckled for a second before turning serious once again. “Okay, Chris spilled it that I’ve been telling him about you for a while. And last night after we got back, he sent me a message. About you.”

            I looked at the phone in my cousin’s wider-than-my-skull hand. The screen was starting to fade to black. Part of me really wanted to see what it said, almost as if I needed confirmation that what Sebastian said was true. Did Chris Evans really find me attractive?

            “No,” I whispered, pushing the phone away. I watched Sebastian turn it off and put it back in his pocket. “It isn’t fair. He told _you_ that, not me.”

            That sideways smile that my cousin had popped up again. “Trust me, Chris would say it to you if he didn’t think he’d sound… weird. He… he really likes you, Little Dalca.”

            My gaze fixed on the spot on the sofa where Chris had been sitting just a few moments before. The seat still radiated his warmth, and I could almost think I could smell a hint of aftershave or cologne. I wanted to think that Chris liked me. I wanted to think that it would somehow work with me in Constanta, not having to give up everything I’d worked so hard to have. I wanted to think it would be a happy ending.

            Sebastian looked up at me, his easy smile dissolving into a worried frown. He took my hands in his and gave them a gentle squeeze. I was thrown back to our time together as kids in Constanta, Sebastian taking care of me just like the older brother I always saw him to be. His presence calmed me, just as it always had.

            “I know that look, Little Dalca. Please don’t…” He sighed, trying to find the right words. “Don’t give up before it’s even begun. Just try, okay? Give it some time. If you aren’t happy when this trip is over, you can go back to Constanta and not worry about Chris again. I’ll make sure you don’t have to. Just… try.”

            He looked at me for a long moment, seeming to see straight through me. At last he spoke again. “Do you trust me?”

            I focused on the feel of his big hands holding mine. I nodded. “ _Da_.”

            “Alright then.”


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

 

            For almost a week, Sebastian was occupied with half a dozen things that took him out of the hotel and all over Boston for hours at a time. He checked in on me throughout the day when he was gone, but for the most part, I was left to my own devices. Which pretty much meant I stayed in my room watching television and reading the books that I’d brought with me from Constanta. That wasn’t a bad thing.

            It was nearing the end of November when everything seemed to settle down again. I’d gone through all of the books I’d brought with me—which was no small feat since I’d brought at least ten—so I was glad to have them back to keep me occupied. Since my conversation with Sebastian, I hadn’t heard much from Chris, although he’d sent a text every now and then while the two of them were off doing whatever they were up to. But I was beginning to feel a little more comfortable around Chris when he popped in.

            The night after Sebastian finished up whatever big secret thing he was working on, the three of us sat in Sebastian’s hotel room (which _was_ much swankier than mine) with boxes of takeout spread out on the table before us. It felt relaxing to be there, curled up in an overstuffed chair with the television on in the background and a box of Chinese balanced on my knee. I picked at the General Tso’s chicken and rice with a pair of chopsticks while I listened to Chris and Sebastian arguing good naturedly across the table about a football game.

            After a few moments, Chris put down his food and wiped his mouth with a napkin. He leaned back in his chair and looked at me, a bashful smile on his face. It took him a moment to get the words out.

            “So, ah… its Thanksgiving next week and they have this big parade…” He looked away, something self-conscious showing on his face. “The Macy’s Parade? Have you… Do you… Uh…”

            I smiled and nodded. “Yes, I know what you’re talking about.”

            Chris laughed, flashing bright white teeth behind his beard. He rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding my gaze for a moment. “Yeah, good! Good… good… So, everyone should experience the Macy’s Parade once in their lives. And I was wondering if you… well, both of you… though Seb’s already seen it… I mean, it’s different every year… you always see something new… I mean, the balloons tend to be the same and Santa is always at the end… but…”

            He was rambling in an adorably nervous kind of way, and I couldn’t help the little jolt of warmth that spread in my chest. He kept talking, very little of it making sense, but it was kind of cute. Well… more than kind of.

            “ _Da_ ,” I said without thinking.

            Chris stopped talking, his mouth hanging open just a little. “Huh?”

            I smiled before going back to my dinner, trying not to make a big deal out of it. “Yes. I’d love to go.”

            Chris looked at me for a split second before breaking into a wide grin. His happiness was like seeing the sun shining after a years of rain. His eyes looked amazingly blue, and I noticed for the first time how long his lashes were. It made me blush thinking of how incredibly handsome he was.

            “Good… good.” He looked around, not quite sure where to focus. I blushed and picked at my food, feeling a little embarrassed. Maybe I’d thought too far into what Chris was asking. Maybe he didn’t mean it as a… a… “It’s a date then.”

            I blushed even brighter and looked away, trying to hide my face behind my dark hair. On the other side of the table, Sebastian smirked at the both of us. Like he’d known this was going to happen all along and had just been waiting for the moment to arrive.

           

            Sebastian and I made our way through La Guardia airport the day before Thanksgiving dragging rolling suitcases behind us. Getting a flight had been frustrating at best, but my cousin wouldn’t agree with a four hour drive when it was just an hour flight. He tugged a ball cap further down over his eyes as we made our way down to meet the car that was waiting. Chris had been in New York for a few days, visiting with his brother.

            We made it to the car without anyone noticing Sebastian, which was a feat in itself. On the curb, I started looking for a taxi or a black sedan. Instead, there was a blue BMW idling with someone leaning against the passenger side. The man leaning against it looked up when he heard the sliding door _shink_ shut. Chris had a Yankees cap pulled low over his eyes and a dark, heavy jacket on over a plaid button up. His hands were tucked in the pockets of his jeans. There was a bright smile on his face.

            “Glad to see you made it,” he said, moving forward to take my bag. I smiled bashfully at him as he picked up the bag to put it in the trunk. He looked over at Sebastian. “Trouble on the flight?”

            Sebastian shook his head. “Surprisingly, no. But I’m starving.”

            Chris held the trunk open so Sebastian could put his bag in the trunk, then he slammed it shut. He walked around to the front passenger side and opened the door. “Do you prefer front seat or back, Tati?”

            I shrugged. “I’ve seen how New Yorkers drive. I’d prefer back seat. I’ll be shouting out the window if I’m up front.”

            Chuckling, Chris closed the front door just as Sebastian moved forward to get in. Instead, Chris opened the back door and held out his hand, offering to take my backpack until I got inside. I let him take it.

            The drive from La Guardia to the city was slow in the traffic and detours that had been set up for the parade. It seemed like Chris knew where he was going when Sebastian said to head to the Marriot Marquis. Apparently it was just off Times Square and within walking distance (by New York Standards) to the parade route. There were three rooms reserved for us until Friday morning.

            “Aren’t you going to spend time with your family?” I asked as we inched forward down Broadway toward our destination. “Isn’t that what Thanksgiving is about?”

            Chris glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “I am. My sisters and my parents are coming to New York to stay with my brother. We’re having a Thanksgiving dinner at his apartment Thursday night.”

            I nodded, watching the city go by in increments. Along Broadway, I saw theater marquis and billboards advertising different plays. I made a mental note to plan a trip to see a few of them. I didn’t think any of them would be showing on Thanksgiving Day, so I was glad that I’d packed a book.

            Sebastian turned around from the front seat and looked at me with a mischief in his eyes that I didn’t like. “Oh, I didn’t tell you? Chris invited us to have Thanksgiving with his family after the parade.”

            For a moment, I couldn’t make myself speak. It was one thing to set me up with his friend without telling me. It was another to invite said friend over first thing in the morning without telling me. It was a- _whole_ -nother thing to accept an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner with the friend and his family. Especially when I hadn’t packed anything nearly appropriate for meeting my potential boyfriend’s family.

            “ _Din nou, cu asta?_ ”

            _Again with this?_


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

 

            Thanksgiving Day dawned bright and cold. I woke up at six and opened the curtains of my hotel room on the twenty-second floor of the Marriot Marquis. The view was fantastic. On the right, I could look down and see the whole of Times Square. On the left, I could see ships on the Hudson River. I stretched and couldn’t help but grin. I’d never had this kind of view when I visited New York before.

            I showered and dressed in a pair of leggings beneath some fitted jeans with a thermal undershirt and a jacket. It might be warmer later in the day as the parade wore on, but the weather called for cold that morning. I didn’t want to be the one complaining of being cold because I dressed for later rather than now.

            I was just tugging my hair up into a side-swept ponytail when someone knocked on the door. I peeked through the peephole and saw Chris and Sebastian standing against the railing, looking out toward the central column of the hotel with is collection of glass-walled elevators running up and down. After I made sure everything was turned off, I stepped out into the hallway with a smile.

            “Morning,” I said brightly, causing both of them to turn around in surprise. They were both dressed in jeans with boots and long sleeved shirts beneath warm-looking jackets. Both of them wore ball caps. Chris’ had a pair of sunglasses resting on the brim. “Can we hit Starbucks before we head to the parade? All they had in there was tea, and that’s just not going to do it for me.”

            With a wide smile, Chris nodded and reached out his hand toward me. I dared a glance toward Sebastian, who nodded encouragingly. Taking a breath, I took his hand, letting his large, rough fingers wrap around mine. Warmth trickled up my arm and settled in a comforting swirl in my chest. I smiled shyly at Chris.

            Sebastian led the way to the elevators, and we rode down to street level in silence. I couldn’t help but watch Chris out of the corner of my eye. The feel of his hand in mine was nice, and it made me pay more attention to his form next to me. He was a good six inches taller than me, and I could see the corner of a tattoo on his chest peeking out above the collar of his shirt. I found myself wondering what it was and what it meant to him.

            The line in Starbucks was already long, so we waited just outside the glass door until we could get in. Sebastian went through and got his black coffee. I grinned when I heard Chris order two coffees with milk, three sugars, and cinnamon on top. He paid cash and took my hand again, leading me down to the end of the bar to wait for our orders.

            I looked up at him with a quirked brow. The left corner of his mouth tipped up, giving me a boyishly rakish smile. “It smells really good. Figured I’d give it a try.”

            Once we got our coffees, we stepped out onto the street and took a left down West 45th Street toward 6th Avenue. It was nearing on seven and a number of people were streaming straight down the middle of the street toward the parade route. Chris put his sunglasses on before taking my hand again as we fell into the crowd that wasn’t paying attention to anything other than getting a good spot at the parade.

            The coffee did a good job warming me up, but it was more just being near Chris and having Sebastian nearby. The three of us laughed and joked as we gently pushed our way through the crowd as it bottlenecked at the corner of West 45th and 6th. Chris kept a firm hold on my hand as he shouldered through the crowd, Sebastian coming through behind me. I could feel his hand on the back of my jacket so he could keep track of us.

            We finally found a spot a block south on 6th Street. Metal barriers had been set up along the edge of the sidewalk, keeping the street clear for the parade to come through. I found myself sandwiched between Chris and Sebastian, looking out at an empty street. The parade wouldn’t come through for a few hours, but we got an amazing view of everything.

            As we stood there, waiting for the parade to begin, Chris never took his hand from mine. It was comfortable and felt almost like… _acasǎ_. Warmth trickled down the back of my neck in undulating waves, like immersing myself in a hot bath on a cold day. After a while, I shifted my hold, lacing our fingers together. Beside me, I heard Chris chuckle. I saw his small smile burn brighter out of the corner of my eye.

            Sebastian elbowed me gently, catching my attention. He spoke softly in Romanian. “It seems you’re throwing yourself in, Little Dalca.”

            I tried not to look away and blush, but I could feel the blood running up in my face. “He… I don’t know how to say it so that you’ll understand. But I’m glad you did this. I really am.”

            “He likes you. Remember that. He’s very private, so the hand holding? That’s a big deal for him.”

            I was suddenly very aware of the feeling of his warm, rough fingers against mine. I wondered if anyone was looking at us, if they had recognized him and were taking pictures right now without us knowing. “I like him, too. I think… I think I could…”

            “I might not speak Romanian, but I know when someone is talking about me,” Chris said from my side. His voice was light and playful.

            Still, the blush that hit my cheeks was so hot and bright that I was sure they could see it on the other side of the street. I bit my lip, not quite knowing what to say. Sebastian looks up at the sky, grinning even though he’d gotten caught—just like I had.

            “I’m so sorry. I keep making an ass out of myself.” I wanted to facepalm, to go back to the hotel and hide under the bed. Or just get lost in the crowd of millions of people waiting on the parade.

            Chris squeezed my hand gently before he lifted it up to his mouth. My heart turned over in my chest as he pressed a kiss to the back of my hand. My one and only thought was how soft his lips were. I swear I stopped breathing.

            He looked down at me. Even through his sunglasses, I could see the earnestness in his eyes. I couldn’t help but keep looking back at his lips, wanting to feel the soft warmth of them again. Tingling heat settled in my belly, and I smiled at him softly.

            I could admit to myself that I was feeling _something_ for Chris Evans.

            “Didn’t I tell you when I first met you, Tatina Dalca? I think the sound of your voice speaking Romanian is incredibly sexy.” Even though his words were confident, spoken in a voice that was slightly gruff, the color on his face let me know that he was just as nervous as I was.

            Flirting definitely wasn’t my forte, but I found enough courage to speak up. “Then I’ll speak it all the time.”

            Chris didn’t get to respond as the first leg of the parade came into view down 6th Avenue just then. He was right. Seeing the parade on the television was one thing, but being right there as it came through the streets of New York was something else entirely. Marching bands from across the United States, floats decorated with animatronics and lights and more things than I could ever have imagined. Singers and bands performed atop floats as they moved along. The casts of Broadway plays sang snippets of their songs as they passed by, dancing.

            Somewhere in the excitement, I’d let go of Chris’ hand. I ended up pressed against the barrier, watching with awe as the floats gave way to giant floating balloons of cartoon characters and Saint Nicholas in his sleigh. Chris stood behind me, his arms wrapped around me so that his body heat seeped into me.

            I was right. Chris Evans felt like _acasǎ_.

            _Home_.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

 

            When the parade was over, I couldn’t stop myself from turning around and throwing my arms around Chris’ neck. I stood up on my tiptoes and smiled up at him. “Thank you for this. It was wonderful.”

            Chris’ arms closed around me, his palms settling on the middle of my back. He was warm and solid… I could feel that even through my jacket. He smiled, flashing his perfect white teeth, his eyes crinkling a little at the corners. “You liked it?”

            My heart thumped against my ribs. I wondered if he was really asking: _do_ _you like me_? Butterflies rustled in my stomach, making me feel light and giddy.

            “ _Da_ ,” I said softly, heat rushing into my limbs. I stood up until I was balanced on the ends of my toes. While my courage held, I pressed a kiss to his cheek. His beard was surprisingly soft, and he smelled wonderful. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”

            When I ended back up on my feet, I saw the happiness on Chris’ face. It made my whole body feel like I’d been filled up with sunlight. I reached for his hand and felt him lace his fingers with mine.

            Sebastian cleared his throat. Chris and I looked over at him, both of us bearing sheepish expressions. My cousin smirked and gestured back toward 45th Street. “Maybe we should go get cleaned up before we have to go to dinner?

            A lead weight slipped down my throat, flattened the butterflies in my stomach. I stopped dead in my tracks, my arm extending forward as Chris kept walking. When he reached the end of my tether, he turned back toward me. My breath was caught in my chest, my lungs contracting until I felt as if someone was wrapping a metal band around my ribs. The sound of the crowd rose to a pitch that felt physical. It pressed in on my eardrums, squeezed my head until it felt as if it was going to explode. Panic rushed in, and I found myself stuck in place.

            Heaviness surrounded me. A solid wall of muscle and fabric and whispering voices. Rough hands and gentle touches guided me away from the parade route. I don’t know how far we walked or how they were able to make me move, but I found myself sitting on the stoop of a closed restaurant. Fingers brushed my cheeks, cradled my face like porcelain.

            I tried desperately to focus. I felt lightheaded, and I knew in any moment I was going to pass out. The constriction in my chest made me feel like my heart was going to burst out of my ribs. I trembled. 

            “Tatiana.” My name sounded odd, like a radio full of static.

            I blinked, hyperventilating to the point of exhaustion.

            “Tatiana, focus here, look at me.” The words were soft and soothing. I pushed, I struggled so hard against the panic rising up over my head to find the source of that voice. My blurry vision slowly cleared. I tried to focus on the blueness of Chris’ eyes in front of me.

            My hands lifted up, fingers wrapping around his wrists. I could feel the slow steadiness of his pulse beneath my fingertips. My body wanted to kick, to thrash against the panic that was still threatening to overtake me. I blinked again, trying to slow my heart to match the one I felt in Chris.

            “Shh,” he said quietly. His thumbs ran gently against my cheekbones, his touch grounding rather than confining. “Look at me. Look here, you’re okay. I’m here. Sebastian’s here.”

            I kicked feebly, feeling like I was choking. I closed my eyes, trying and failing to force my body to relax.

            “Tatiana, look at me. Open your eyes.”

            My brown eyes flicked open, locked with the worried blue ones staring back at me from Chris’ face. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sebastian crouching nearby, worry etched on his features.

            “You’re having a panic attack, Tatiana,” Chris murmured calmly. “You’re not hurt. Relax. Breathe. Breathe.”

            He took slow deep breaths, his eyes never leaving mine. My fingers dug into his wrists as I tried to follow his directions. I struggled to breathe deeply at first, but the longer I followed along, the easier it became. As I slowly got my breath back, the panic began to ebb away. Chris continued talking to me quietly, easing me back into some feeling of control.

            At last, he nodded and smiled. “Good girl. Good. Just breathe.” He sat there with me for a moment before he turned to Sebastian. “She’s fine. Just a panic attack. She’s fine.”

            He moved to draw his hands away, but my fingers tightened around his wrists. I shook my head like a petulant child. Chris smiled a little sadly and let me hold his hands against my cheeks until my heart stopped threatening to punch through my chest and spring off down 45th Street.

            “I’m sorry,” I whispered at last.

            Chris shook his head, his hands becoming a bit more insistent as he cradled my face. His smile faded just a little as seriousness crept in. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, Tati. Absolutely nothing.”

            Sebastian backed away, letting Chris calm me. My fingers ached from their hold on his wrists, but I didn’t want to let go just yet. The feel of his pulse was steadying. I closed my eyes. I still felt so ashamed of how I’d broken down.

            “I can’t… I…” I felt a wave of nausea hit me. I tried to breathe steadily through my nose. Chris nodded gently, allowing me to speak when I was comfortable. “I can’t go to dinner with your family. I can’t… I’m sorry.”

            A little bit of disappointment flashed over Chris’ face, but he covered it quickly. “You don’t have to, Tati. You never had to.” He threw a glare over his shoulder at Sebastian before turning his attention back to me. “Tell you what. Let’s get you back to the hotel and let you rest a little. I’ll go have dinner with my family, and I’ll bring a plate back for you. My mom makes the best cherry pie.”

            I smiled timidly, finally trusting myself to let go of him. Chris helped me to my feet and took my hand again. I felt his fingers lace with mine. He brought my hand up to his lips and kissed my fingers, his warm lips lingering just a moment. My heart skipped a beat, threatening to return to its racing rhythm from before.

            “I’d like that.”

            Chris nodded and gestured for Sebastian to walk on my other side and a little behind me. Panic attack or no, it seemed Chris wasn’t entirely convinced I wasn’t going to faint. I didn’t blame him. My legs trembled like Jell-O as we walked back to the hotel in silence.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

 

            Chris walked me back to my room, hovering by the door when I pushed it open. There was a tightness in his eyes. A tension in his shoulders. My fingers were still shaking so much that it was difficult to put my key card back in my pocket. Chris reached forward slowly to take the key card from me.

            “It’s alright,” he said quietly. “Go on, I’ll just leave this on the nightstand, okay?”

            I was so exhausted. Every step across the room was weighed down with molasses-like shame. I’d made a spectacle on the street, drawn attention to Chris and Sebastian when I knew they just wanted to relax. _Zeu_ , I hoped no one took pictures. I’d hate myself if they were tagged by the paparazzi because I couldn’t keep myself together.

            I felt like a zombie as I made my way over to the bed and sat down on the edge. Chris followed, sitting my key card on the table between the two queen beds. The room was quiet except for the sound of heat kicking on. I wanted to say something, anything, but I couldn’t make my tongue work. It was glued to the roof of my mouth.

            “Tatiana,” he whispered. His voice broke a little, and he cleared his throat before continuing on. “Has that ever happened before?”

            The shame of what happened slammed into me like a physical thing. I shook my head. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him, so I stared at the carpet between his feet. It was funny, I had no words to explain my feelings right then, but I could tell you how many times I’d seen Chris Evans smile at me. I could tell you every detail of how his fingers felt wrapped in mine.

            Chris crossed the distance between us and sat on the bed beside me. His gaze on me was a physical thing, somehow too heavy and wonderfully gentle all at once. Carefully, he took my hand in both of his. He didn’t say anything, and I was glad of it. I didn’t have anything to say in return.

            We sat like that for longer than I knew. At last our silence was interrupted by Sebastian knocking at the door, telling Chris they’d need to leave if they wanted to get to dinner on time. Chris gave my hand a squeeze.

            “Are you going to be alright? Just for a few hours?”

            I nodded, not trusting my voice.

            Chris sighed and gently used his thumb and forefinger to turn my face toward him. His gaze lingered on my mouth for a moment before he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead.

            “Please call if you need anything. We’ll be back in a while.”

As soon as Chris and Sebastian left, I dressed in some leggings and an oversized shirt that I’d stolen from Sebastian. Then I turned on the television to watch an old movie and fell asleep before I had a chance to get into it.

 

I awoke to the sound of knocking on the door. I stumbled across the room to find Chris standing there with a stack of Styrofoam boxes and a soda. He smiled, a little tilt of the corners of his mouth, and held up the food.

“If you’re hungry… Mom packed you a little bit of everything.”

For a moment, I thought about just sending him away. But my stomach chose that moment to grumble loudly. “Come on, then,” I mumbled, standing aside as I held the door open.

Chris set the food and drink on the desk across the room. Then he grabbed the ice bucket and disappeared down the hall to the ice machine. By the time he came back, I’d splashed some cold water on my face. He’d left the door propped open before he went out, so he was able to let himself back in. Chris went about pouring ice into two glasses and pouring out some soda for the two of us.

I had crawled back into my place on the bed, curled up beneath the blankets. Chris handed me one of the glasses and then brought over one of the boxes. When he opened it, steam wafted up from inside, carrying with it the scent of fresh turkey and bread stuffing, sweet potatoes and green bean casserole, scalloped potatoes and yeast rolls.

My mouth started to water. “ _Care miroase minunat_ ,” I groaned, breathing deeply.

Chris chuckled and gave me one of his boyish half smiles. He settled the box on my lap and handed me a plastic knife and fork. “Dig in, Tati. Mom sends it with her love.”

I took the first bite of turkey, and I knew that I absolutely loved Mrs. Evans’ food. “ _Zeu, este raiul_!”

“You like it?” The sound of his voice was hopeful. Somehow, I felt like he was asking again if I liked him more than he was asking if I liked the food.

For the first time since my panic attack at the parade, I smiled. “ _Da_ ,” I mumbled around a mouthful of food. I blushed bright and swallowed before trying again. “I’m sorry. Yes, it’s like heaven! It smells so wonderful!”

Chris’ smile was brighter than I’d seen before. It turned shy and bashful when he spoke again. “Do you mind?” He gestured toward the other side of the bed.

I wiggled my toes under the blanket, trying not to think too far into it. I nodded.

He toed off his shoes and draped his jacket on the back of the little sofa. Then he sat on the bed beside me, his back pressed against the headboard. For a while, he just looked straight ahead, and I couldn’t tell if he was thinking or if he was interested in the movie on the television. It was like he was giving me time to get used to his presence, to be comfortable with him that close.

“Thank you,” I said quietly. “I didn’t say it before, but thank you.”

Chris gave a little self-deprecating smile. “I have a lot of experience with anxiety and panic attacks. Sometimes they just hit without any warning at all, and the only thing you can do is just get through them.”

I put the fork down and turned a little so I could look at Chris. It suddenly hit me that I didn’t know that much about him. Sure, I knew what was running around in interviews and film clips. I knew what Sebastian told me. But I didn’t know who Chris was when no one else was around.

“I wouldn’t think an actor would be… like that.”

He huffed. “I’ve just gotten really good at hiding it.”

I placed the box of food on the bed between us and offered him the fork. I sat up cross-legged, a pillow hugged against my chest. Chris took the fork, matching my posture as he dug into the sweet potatoes. Watching him eat, I thought about how it must be to have to be _on_ all the time. He must have spent so much of his time exhausted.

“Chris, you don’t… you don’t have to be nice to me just because Seb’s my cousin.” The words burned against my tongue as they came out. I winced when I saw the hurt flash in his eyes.

“That isn’t…” He sighed and reached out for my hand. The food sat forgotten between us for a moment. My heart hammered in my chest. “That isn’t why I…. That’s not why I want to spend time with you.”

The confession caught me off guard, even though there was a part of me that had wanted him to say something just like this. Sweat brushed against my palms. I wanted to cry. A small bit of panic started to rise in me again. I breathed deep, watching his eyes.

“Tati… I think I could love you—if you’d let me.” His eyes were on our hands. His fingertips brushed against the pulse at the base of my thumb. My breath caught in my chest. I knew he could feel the erratic thumping of my heart. “I’d like to try.”

Adrenaline fired through my veins. I closed my eyes, trying to talk some sense into myself. My heart raced harder and faster. It jumped into my throat. I couldn’t stop myself.

I didn’t want to.

I opened my eyes enough to avoid the food as I moved toward him. My palms pressed against his jaw, thumbs against his cheekbones. I didn’t think. A deep breath in, a flutter of my heart that released a million billion butterflies into my stomach.

My lips brushed his, shy and unsure and wishing that it could last forever.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

 

            The moment I drew away from him, I felt heat burn up my cheeks. I pulled my hands back only to have them caught in his rough fingers. His eyes were bright when he looked at me. His lips were parted. I watched his tongue dart out to touch his bottom lip. The fire in my face soared higher.

            For an instant, there was a fierceness in his gaze. My heart trembled in my chest. I didn’t know what was about to happen. Part of me was desperate for it, the rest of me was terrified. I tried to look away, but found I didn’t have the strength. The way he looked at me made me feel weightless and grounded all at once.

            He brought my hands to his mouth, brushing his feather-soft lips against each of my fingers, my knuckles, the backs of my hands. His eyes closed. Something like peace crossed his face.

            “Chris… I…”

            His fingers dropped my hands. His palm cupped my cheek, the rough pad of his thumb brushing against my lips. “Please don’t say you’re sorry. Please.”

            I couldn’t help but nuzzle into his hand. “I’m not.”

            Chris smiled, a bright grin that reached his eyes, making them sparkle like polished lapis lazuli. His thumb stroked against my mouth, sending tingles through my whole body. “Good. Neither am I.”

            We sat like that for a moment before he withdrew his hand and leaned back. He picked up the fork and handed it to me, gesturing to the plate his mother had prepared for me. “Eat. My mother will never forgive me if it gets cold before you finish.”

            I grinned and took the fork from him. I ate until I couldn’t eat another bite. My stomach ached in a wonderful way. Chris gestured to the other Styrofoam box. I groaned and rolled over onto my side, facing him.

            “Your mother is amazing.”

            Chris picked up the leftovers and put them on the table. Then he came back and crawled onto the bed beside me. He lie down on his side, his arm tucked beneath the pillow beneath his head. My heart buffeted my ribs just looking at him. He was so beautiful.

            “She’s great. She was sad she didn’t get to meet you, but… I hope that might change later.” He reached for my hand. We lie there facing one another, holding hands as the winter sun sank behind the New York skyline.

 

            I woke up the next morning to a weak sun streaming through the open curtains. The bed next to me was empty, but I was tucked so comfortably beneath the blankets that I didn’t really mind. I even thought I could still smell the scent of his cologne on the pillow next to me.

            For a long time, I just stayed there, eyes closed and thinking of what had started—what I _hoped_ had started—last night. Something golden and warm and light dropped into my chest, pumping out of my heart with my blood and settling in my soul. I sat up and stretched before heading in for a shower.

            There was a note propped up on the bathroom sink. I picked it up, a grin spreading over my face.

            _Meet me in the lobby at ten. I have a surprise. –Chris_

            I looked at the clock on the coffee maker. It was half past nine. I tossed the note on the counter and started the shower while I brushed my teeth. My goal: get ready in record time.

            My phone rang as I was pulling clothes from my bag. Sebastian’s face lit up the screen. Trepidation walked up my spine. I swiped to answer, mentally switching to Romanian.

            “Good morning, cousin,” I said, digging through the bag to find something halfway decent to wear.

            Sebastian chuckled. “Good morning. We’re staying another day, no need to rush to get ready.”

            “Really, why?” I was glad I’d brought extra clothes.

            “I don’t know. Chris just came by this morning and said he’s paid for another day for all of us. Then he bolted, said he had something important to do.”

            I blushed, wondering if that had anything to do with the note he’d left for me. “Oh well, okay then. Listen, I have to go…”

            I swear I could _hear_ him perk up when I said that. I rolled my eyes, wishing I hadn’t said anything. “Where are you going, Little Dalca?”

            A sigh worked its way out of me. The clock by the bed ticked closer to ten. “I… I’m just…” I couldn’t find a good excuse, so I rushed through the next few words. It came out sounding like “Chrisistakingmesomewhere.”

            My cousin laughed, a deep chuckle that was a clear sign of happiness. “That explains the extra day. Go have fun, Little Dalca. I love you.”

            I grinned. “Love you too, _frate-vǎrul_.”

 

            Chris sat at a table just outside the hotel gift shop, his sunglasses on and a ball cap pulled low. A jacket was draped over the chair beside him. He stood up when he saw me coming, and I couldn’t help but blush shyly when he put his arms around me and drew me into a warm hug. His lips were gentle against my temple before he drew back.

            “So… I had this idea,” he said, the fingers of his right hand sliding down my arm. With the left hand, he reached out and snatched up the jacket. He started to head towards the elevators but stopped. “Are you hungry? We can get breakfast first.”

            I looked over his shoulder at the café. I wrinkled my nose. “After everything I ate last night, I don’t think I have room for anything else right now.”

            He beamed. His smile was so bright that I thought it would make me melt into a puddle on the floor. “Then I guess we should go, they’re expecting us,” he said, bringing my fingers to his lips before we rounded the lobby to the elevator bank.

            On street level, we went out the 46th Street exit and turned left. Just down the block was the Richard Rodgers Theater. The marquis was lit up with a burnt orange background, a star with a man as the top point, and the word _HAMILTON_ written across it. I stopped in my tracks and looked at Chris, amazement in my eyes.

            “You got tickets? How… How did you know?”

            That bashful look he sometimes got was back. He shook his head. “I don’t have tickets. It’s impossible to get them, even for me. And Sebastian said you’ve been listening to it. Said you had it on your iPod on the flight from Spain.”

            Another thing my cousin talked about that he didn’t tell me. I wanted to simultaneously kiss him and kill him. “Then, if you don’t have tickets, what…?”

            “I know a guy,” he said, his Boston accent becoming more pronounced, “from high school. Works in the show. I… uh… called in a favor.”

            Just then, the stage door opened onto the street. A tall, dark skinned man with a kind smile and warm brown eyes poked his head out. He grinned at Chris. “Come on then! We’re getting ready to do the middle set—You said _Yorktown_ , right?”

            I felt like my heart was going to flop onto the sidewalk. “Are we going to…? Chris… Are they rehearsing?”

            Chris nodded and gestured for me to follow his friend. “Lead the way, man.”

            We followed behind him, the light from the street cutting off as the stage door closed. Chris stayed close, his hand on my back as we followed his friend up a flight of stairs. We emptied out on a catwalk to the right of the stage. Down below us, Lin-Manuel Miranda and Daveed Diggs were talking something over before the song started. Everyone was in street dress, some had coffee cups in their hands. In the orchestra pit, music started playing.

            Goosebumps ran up my arms as the theater filled with music and sound.

            “The Battle of Yorktown. 1781…”


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

 

            Sebastian left New York on Saturday through La Guardia. I blushed when Chris asked if I wanted to ride back to Boston with him. The prospect of four hours alone with him in a car was a little daunting, but I wanted to get to know him a little better.

            Right after we dropped Sebastian off at the airport, Chris and I headed for the highway. Chris drove with one hand on the wheel, his eyes hidden behind sunglasses. I sat in the passenger seat, curled in my seat with my feet curled beneath me. Chris leaned on his right arm against the center console, his palm resting against the gearshift. A Top 40 station played quietly on the radio.

            “I’m glad you decided to come,” Chris said, taking his eyes off the road just long enough to glance at me. “It means a lot.”

            I smiled and tucked my hair behind my ears. “I wanted to drive to start with, but Sebastian wouldn’t agree with it.”

            He laughed, and the whole car filled with the sound of it. My skin tingled with the way his happiness made me feel. Chris was like sunshine, like peace and calm. I wanted to spend hours and hours just wallowing in that feeling.

            For the first two hours of the drive, Chris asked about my life in Constanta. I told him about growing up with my _bunicǎ_ , about living in the city and going to clubs with my friends on the weekend, about studying at the University of Bucharest, and spending summers on the coast of the Black Sea. I told him stories of Sebastian and me when we were young. I told him of how my life changed after Sebastian and his mother moved to Austria and then on to the United States. I told him how it had stayed the same.

            We stopped for something to eat somewhere in Connecticut. Chris pulled in to a little Irish pub place called The Half Door. We found a seat at a booth near the back. They were still serving brunch. Chris ordered a soda and something called a Sternberg Benedict. He grinned at me when I looked for the cheapest thing on the menu. He waved his hand at the laminated paper in front of me, telling me to get whatever I wanted. I was starving, so I ordered something called Cobblestones. They were amazing.

            “What do you miss most?” Chris asked around a mouthful of food. He tried so hard to make it look suave, but I couldn’t help but grin.

            “About Constanta?”

            He nodded. His body language shifted slightly, turning his attention on me completely.

            I took a moment to think. My mind crashed back toward the way I grew up, drawing up memories of the best times of my childhood. I smiled. “On the weekends, my mom and dad used to take us to the coast. When it was warm, we’d play in the water. When it was too cold, we sat on the piers and watched the boats go out onto the Black Sea. I miss that feeling. That feeling of being…”

            “Home.”

            Chris’ words startled me out of my memories. I looked up to see something smoldering in his eyes, something that brought out flecks of green and gold in the blueness. The butterflies built a colony in my stomach, and I didn’t try to stop myself from reaching across the table and taking his hand. My fingers slipped between his. I smiled softly.

            “ _Acasǎ_.”

            I felt that sensation of warmth and lightness flood into me. Something heavy and serious and important settled around the two of us as we looked at one another. I opened my mouth to speak, but couldn’t find the words to say. It was like all the air had been sucked out of my lungs, but I didn’t need it. I knew what was happening, I knew that I was two breaths away from falling headlong toward love with Chris Evans, and I was ready to jump in with my eyes wide open. I didn’t care.

            Because he felt like summers on the Black Sea and winters by the fireplace with _bunicǎ_ telling stories.

            When we finished eating, Chris paid and led me back out to the car. The air had a crisp scent to it. I had left my jacket in the car, so I bounced up and down by the passenger door as Chris dug his keys out of his pocket.

            “Hurry! It’s cold!”

            With a grin, Chris dashed across the sidewalk toward me. His arms closed around me, tugging me close to his chest. He was solid and incredibly warm, and the strength in his embrace was so tight but so controlled at the same time. I wanted to bury my face against his chest, to breathe in the scent of just _Chris_ and just be. Then I made the mistake of looking up.

            It was the best mistake I’d ever made in my life.

            Chris’ lips met mine, and I let out a squeak of surprise. I could feel his arms tense, could sense the motion in his muscles as he made to pull away. My whole body begged for him not to. I felt my fingers wrap in his shirt, tug him closer to me. My surprise gave way to a little sigh of contentment. His arms held me closer, his lips renewed their pressure, and I was lost.

            Completely and totally lost.

            One of his hands slid up my back and into my hair. I felt his palm cradle my head. Everything in that moment was beautiful and perfect and I didn’t want it to end. His kiss didn’t ask for more than I could give, but it held a thousand promises. I felt small and protected in his embrace. I felt like I could take on the world with his arms around me.

            My heart dropped a little when he backed away from me. He pressed his forehead to mine, tucking me against the solid mass of muscle that was his chest. I could feel his heart pounding beneath my palm.

            “Chris, I…” I wiggled my arms from their place, pinned between my body and his. I wrapped them around his neck. My nose brushed his, our mouths inches apart. “I think I could love you, too.”

            His lips turned up at the corners, his eyes went bright. I wanted to kiss him again. I wanted to spend hours and hours kissing him and snuggling against his solid warmth. My fingers brushed his cheeks, nails scratching accidentally through his beard. He let out a rumble that vibrated through my bones.

            I quirked an eyebrow and did it again.

            He rumbled again.

            I giggled. “You’re like a kitten. Scratch your chin and you purr.”

            Something mischievous flashed in his gaze. He grinned wider and jutted out his jaw. I laughed and dragged my nails beneath his chin. His lips parted like he was going to say something, but his phone chose that moment to start ringing.

            “That’s my sister,” he said with a little sigh. He pulled out an iPhone and answered. As he talked, he rubbed his hand up and down my back, trying to keep me warm. I held out my hand, wiggling my fingers for the keys. He held them out toward me, but snatched them before I had the chance to grab them. Then he smirked and held them high over his head.

            I made a face and jumped, trying to get my hands on his shoulders for some leverage. He stretched, holding the keys even higher. I was amazed that he could carry on a conversation so calmly all the while teasing me with the promise of a warm car in the Connecticut winter.

            “Damn it, Chris, give me the keys!” I shouted before I poked him in the stomach, just above the band of his jeans.

            He let out a little _oof_ sound and dropped the keys to the ground. I snatched them up and hit the fob to unlock the door. I climbed in and pulled the door shut, locking it behind me. Then I started the car and cranked the heater.

            Chris looked at me from outside the car, his jaw hanging and the phone still pressed to his ear. I could hear his voice muffled through the glass. “Listen, Carly, I have to go. I’ll take care of it when I’m back in Boston.”

            He tucked his phone in his pocket and rapped his knuckles on the glass. I bit my fingertips and looked bashfully out at him. He dropped his head and laughed. “Let me in? Please? It’s cold.”

            I gave him my best, most winning smile. “Dance! Dance, and I’ll let you in.”

            He rolled his eyes, looked around, and promptly started doing the running man.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

 

            Chris dropped me off at the hotel that evening. He offered to walk me up to my room, but I shook my head. I was certain Sebastian was waiting upstairs, wanting to give me a hard time for spending the whole day with Chris. And, to be honest, I felt like I needed some time alone to figure out what was going on in my head.

            Sebastian, surprisingly, wasn’t waiting when I got to my room. I sighed in relief as I dropped my bags by the bed and headed straight to the bathroom for a shower. As I relaxed, thoughts of Chris Evans took over my mind. I spent the whole night with a smile.

 

            The last few days of November passed in a rush. Sebastian and I hung out in one room or the other, watching television or movies. As December started, we went out sightseeing in Boston, both on our own and with Chris. It was on one of these trips, the three of us bundled and warm in Chris’ car as we drove past Boston harbor, that Chris asked if we’d like to see his hometown.

            Sebastian, having been relegated to the back seat, leaned forward to look at me. “What do you think, Little Dalca? That means mom and dad and all of his family,” he said in Romanian.

            In an instant, a rush of panic settled in my belly. I glanced up at Chris, seeing the faint hope in his eyes. For the past few weeks, we had slowly been building our comfort level with each other. Even then, as he drove, he held my hand in his, our entwined hands resting on the center console. I felt a gentle squeeze against my fingers.

            I turned a little in the seat so I could face Chris. Even though my heart was bouncing up and down against my diaphragm, I wanted to do this for him.

            “Let’s go.”

            Chris beamed, his cheeks glowing red with happiness. He drew our twined hands up to his lips and kissed mine. His lips lingered, and I thought I felt him whisper something against my skin.

 

            We pulled into the driveway of a house in (what the sign at the edge of town said was “historic”) Sudbury, Massachusetts. It was a middle sized two-story house with a steep roof and a chimney at either end of the house. A covered porch welcomed us as we climbed the front steps. Every step made my heart thump a little harder. Anxiety made it hard to breathe. I clutched Chris’ hand with both of mine as he pushed the front door open.

            “Ma!” His voice called out with a Boston accent so thick that I wanted to laugh. He glanced at me, winking playfully. “Ma, where are you?”

            From the back of the house, there came an answering yell. “Christopher? Is that you?”

            A dark haired woman appeared around the doorway. She smiled brightly when she caught sight of he and I, standing in the foyer of her home with our hands clasped. “Well, Christopher, it’s about time!” she exclaimed, crossing toward us.

            The closer she came, the more I could see Chris in her features. He had her eyes and her easy smile. When she got close enough, he pulled her into a one-armed hug and kissed her cheek. She glanced around her solid son and waved at my cousin.

            “Good to see you, Sebastian, dear.”

            My cousin blushed and dipped his head. “Mrs. Evans. Good to see you, too.”

            Mrs. Evans stepped back and gave me an appraising eye. I felt self-conscious. I wasn’t dressed to meet Chris’ parents. My hair was pulled back in a messy braid, just enough to keep it from blowing around my face. I hadn’t really worn any makeup. My jeans were a little loose—after all, I was wearing leggings underneath to keep warm. I had on brown faux leather boots with wool socks. An old jacket and a faded, Winnie the Pooh sweatshirt.

            The feeling of being inadequate rushed through my veins. I wasn’t the kind of girl who he was supposed to bring home. His mother was about to burst my happy little bubble and send me packing out of her foyer, demand I walk all the way back to my hotel and never lay eyes on her son again. Vomit clawed against my throat.

            At last, Mrs. Evans gathered me up in a hug. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you, darling,” she said, beaming with happiness. “Tatiana, come in! Make yourself at home.”

            “Ma…” Chris started. He didn’t get a chance as Mrs. Evans took me by the arm and deftly maneuvered me away from him. “Where are you going?”

            His mother glanced over her shoulder. “Carly, Shanna, and the kids are in the living room. I’m going to make introductions. Your dog is in the patio room.”

            Chris’ eyes brightened up. He looked toward the doorway that, I expected, lead to the patio room. Then he glanced back at me, his body turning physically to put his back to the other opening. “Tati…”

            For a moment, I wanted him to come with me. I didn’t want to face his family alone. But I could see the happiness in his eyes when his mother mentioned his dog. I smiled shyly. “I’ll be okay.”

            He looked at me for a long moment. Then, without warning, he crossed the foyer and cradled my face in his hands. He kissed me soundly, right there in front of his mother. Something hot and molten flushed the anxiety and fear from my whole body. I felt weightless. Chris drew back before putting his mouth to my ear, his whispered words flooding into me, crashing through my body, my heart, my soul.

            My eyes burned. I pulled myself away from his mother and wrapped my arms around him. He enclosed me in the warmest of hugs. His cheek pressed against my head. His heart thumped beneath my ear, every pounding pulse a question. My arms barely went around his waist, but I wanted to hold him against me and never let go. I blinked, trying to hold back the tears that were welling in my eyes. I sniffled, and Chris tightened his hold on me. _Zeu_ , it was so solid and so comforting.

            “ _Te iubesc_ ,” I whispered against his chest. My voice cracked. I gripped him tighter. I spoke louder. “ _Te iubesc_.”

            From somewhere to my left, I heard Sebastian. “Shit.”

            Just then, three things happened all at once. The sound of voices slammed into the foyer. There was a skittering sound as something four-legged crossed the floor. A pair of high pitched squeals echoed through the house, calling for “Unca Chris!”

            Something barreled into my legs, knocking me almost off my feet. If it hadn’t been for Chris’ arms around me, I would have fallen flat on the floor. Wiping my eyes, I looked down to see a brown and white dog trying to nose its way in between our legs. Just behind the dog came two little kids, waving their arms at Chris when they saw him.

            Chris crouched down beside me and started scratching the ears of the dog. He lit up, laughing. “Hey, Dodger. Hey, buddy.”

            My hand fell to rest on Chris’ shoulder. He looked so happy, and that happiness rushed into me. He looked up at me and grinned. “Tati, this is Dodger. Dodger, this is Tati.”

            I knelt next to Chris, reaching out my hand slowly toward the dog. “Hi, Dodger.” The dog let out a little gruff bark and nuzzled my hand. I grinned and started scratching him along with Chris.

            Somewhere to the left, a female voice said, “Well, looks like Dodger approves.”

            I glanced up to see a little blonde-haired girl looking at me. I smiled at her, even while she hid behind who I assumed was her mother. “Hi,” I said softly.

            The little girl peered around her mother’s leg. “Are you Unca Chris’ girlfriend?”

            I felt the blush race up my cheeks. I glanced beside me at Chris, who was watching me with interest. I smiled, took a deep breath, and spoke.

            “Yes, yes, I am.”


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

 

            After visiting with his family for a while, Chris stood up. He smiled at his mom, who looked on with approval as he reached for my hand. “If you guys don’t mind, I’m going to borrow Tati for a second.”

            I had spent the last half hour on the floor alternately playing with Dodger and Stella, Chris’ niece. Stella gave me a sad look, but I reached out to brush some hair from her eyes. “I’ll be right back. I promise.”

            Chris helped me up and led me back through the house. We went into a room that looked out over the back garden. I assumed this was the patio room. I suddenly recognized it from the video he’d posted online for that ice bucket thing. He led me over to the windows and drew me back against his chest. His arms wrapped around me, overlapping on my midriff. He rested his cheek against my temple. I felt his breath rustling through the stray hair that brushed my face.

            I folded my hands over his arms and leaned into his hold. He wrapped around me, grasping me gently and snugly. I wanted to close my eyes and savor it, but I couldn’t look away from our reflection in the window. He looked so happy, and I couldn’t stop my eyes from tracing the line of his jaw, the shadow of his lashes, and the curve of his mouth.

            It surprised me how easily I had come to love the man who held me in his arms. It had been so quick, but so gradual at the same time. It was a building of affection from one moment to the next, culminating in a realization when he kissed me in front of his mother. He made me think of warm sunshine, the crisp feel of the Black Sea lapping over my toes, and the calm peace that came with that moment between waking and sleeping.

            “Did you mean it?” His voice was soft, hopeful almost.

            I turned my head enough to be able to look at him. He meets my eyes, and I see the hope and question in those beautiful blue-green eyes of his. “Every word.”

            Chris turned me around in his arms, wrapped them around my waist and picked me up from the floor. I squealed and tucked my legs around his hips, my arms around his neck. He smiled at me, and my heart melted into my toes. I brush my fingers through his hair and smile back, pulling myself closer to press a kiss to his lips.

            His hands spanned my back, pinning me against him as he licked my bottom lip. My whole body shivered as his tongue delved into my mouth. His touch, his kiss, his taste… it made my whole body turn to complete mush. My fingers tightened in his hair, nails digging into his scalp. I let out a soft sigh against his lips, and he groaned. It sent a vibration straight through me.

            We were both out of breath when he pulled back. I watched his gaze lock on my mouth, and I licked my lips. He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against mine.

            “Don’t do that, Tati,” he said, his voice gruff. He panted softly.

            “Why?”

            He looked up into my eyes and growled a little. “It does things to me.”

            Every inch of my body burns with heat and fire and fear and desire. I feel bashful and empowered all at once. I bite my bottom lip and look away, shy.

            “Oh fuck,” he groaned, closing his eyes, “that’s worse.”

            My heart turned over and fell out of my toes when he said _fuck_. I blamed it on our current physical proximity, but I suddenly had the overwhelming desire to get his shirt off. I sighed, shaking my head a little.

            “Don’t say that, Chris.” My voice came out surprisingly sensual. I barely recognized myself.

            “Why?”

            I ran my fingertips down the line of his jaw. “It does things to me.”

            He chuckled and sat me on the ground in front of him. As I slid back down to my own two feet, I ended up with my belly pressed against his pelvis. My face burned bright red when I realized he was turned on. I tried to step away, but he wouldn’t release me.

            “Maybe… maybe we should stay in here for a minute, before we go back to your family.” I tried to be discrete, flicking my eyes toward his crotch and back up again.

            Chris looked up at the ceiling. “Jesus,” he mumbled, resting his hands on my arms. He gave a self-deprecating smile. “Well, I told you.”

            I finally disentangled myself from him enough to step back a little. I went over to the windows and sat down on the concrete floor. The cold seeped into my clothes, but I couldn’t help but watch the backyard start to fill with snow. The light was starting to fade behind the trees, casting shadows over what I guessed were garden furniture and kids’ toys.

            Chris sat down beside me, looking out over his childhood play area. He checked his watch. “We should start to head back soon. The roads around here get a little crazy when it snows. Especially in the dark.”

            I heard the scrabble of nails on the floor and turned to see Dodger padding toward us. He’d obviously come in search of Chris. The dog went straight to him and started butting him in the chest with his head and pawing at his hand. Chris looked down at him for a minute before he started scratching his dog under the chin. Dodger promptly laid down in Chris’ lap.

            “I don’t think Dodger wants you to go anywhere.”

            “Well…” He let out a low sigh. “Dodger stays with my parents when I’m on location or traveling. I hate being away from him for so long. I miss this big guy.”

            For a long moment, I just watched Chris with his dog. It made me so happy to see him at peace. He seemed so completely in the moment, so content. I lean over and put my head on his shoulder.

            “I love you, Chris,” I said softly. I know I’d already said it, but I wanted him to hear it again. To hear it in English and know that I meant every syllable of it.

            He turned and kissed the top of my head. “I love you too, Tati.”

            We sat quietly for a while, just watching the snow fall and playing with Dodger. I tried hard to win the dog over, knowing how important he was to Chris. I made a mental note to buy Dodger lots of toys and treats.

            I jumped when Sebastian cleared his throat behind us. Chris and I both turned to look at him. He had a worried look on his face. “Your dad just rolled in,” he said, directing his attention to Chris. “He said the roads are really bad heading into Boston. Your mom wants us to stay until the roads clear in the morning.”

            Chris turned to me, his thumb and forefinger brushing against my chin. He gave me a long look before he spoke. “Is that okay with you?”

            Trepidation slipped into my chest. I knew I was being stupid, but I didn’t want to do something wrong, to disappoint his family. To disappoint him.

            “It’s the safe thing to do it seems.”

            With a smile, Chris leaned over and gave me a lingering kiss.

            He pulled away and looked over his shoulder at my cousin. He grinned. “Round up the kiddos, Seb. Disney in the living room in fifteen minutes.”

            Chris got to his feet and reached down to help me up. He brushed his fingers against my cheek and kissed me softly again. “C’mon, I’ll see if we can find something for you to sleep in.”

            I followed Chris back through the house, letting him lead me by the hand. As we went, he called for his sister, asking for some pajamas. Stella went racing by, her brother Miles on her heels. Chris admonished them to get changed quickly.

            “ _The Little Mermaid_ waits for no one, guys!”


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

 

            Chris’ sister Carly gave me a pair of flannel pajama pants and a t-shirt. I clutched the clothes to my chest as she led me down the hall to Chris’ bedroom to change. When I stepped inside and shut the door, I couldn’t help but grin. The room was dominated by a queen-sized sleigh bed draped with a dark blue comforter. Pillows piled against the headboard. Shelves around the room were stuffed with sports memorabilia, books, trophies, and photographs. A desk was pushed against the wall, looking out the window toward the side yard. The closet stood half open, and I noticed it was stocked with clothes as if Chris was here often.

            I sat down on the edge of the bed and picked up a photograph from the bedside table. It was Chris in what I guessed was the backyard. He wore a backwards ball cap and sunglasses, and he knelt next to a large black dog. His smile was so bright and so happy. At the bottom of the photograph, the word _East_ was written in Chris’ handwriting.

            The longer I looked around Chris’ room, the more I felt like I was being nosey. I laid the pajamas on the end of the bed and undressed. I folded and piled my clothes on the desk chair. Goosebumps ran along my arms as I stood in his bedroom in nothing but my underwear and socks. A feeling of being lost in my own mind, the surreal sensation that this wasn’t actually happening, washed over me.

            It couldn’t be real. I was just some girl from Constanta, Romania, a nobody. Chris was… Chris was wonderful and warm and loving and kind and playful and handsome and charming. I was so out of my league that I wasn’t even on the right playing field. Any minute, any second, I would wake up and realize that it was all a dream.

            I pulled on the pants and tied the string at my waist. They fit surprisingly well given that I had a few more pounds on their original owner. The shirt was loose and soft, like it had been washed a thousand times. I felt comfortable. I felt a little more at home.

            As I crossed the room, I tugged my braid loose, intending to pull my hair up into a ponytail. Before I got to the door, it opened. Chris came through, pulling his long sleeved shirt up over his head. I caught sight of the definition of his abs, the hard muscle of his chest with the dusting of hair over his pectorals. A flash of ink along his ribs, beneath his right collarbone, his biceps.

            Fire rushed into my belly. Warmth seeped into my limbs and made my skin tingle. My eyes popped wide, and I stopped dead in my tracks, letting out a faint _oh_ of surprise.

            Chris had his shirt off and was tossing it into a laundry hamper in the corner before he noticed I was there. He had the grace to blush and turn around. “Shit,” he spat. “I’m sorry.”

            I had a perfect view of the defined lines of his back. His shoulders were broad and tapered down to his narrow waist, his jeans with their belt hung low on his hips. Before I could stop myself, I moved forward as if in a daze. My fingertips brushed up against his back, the dip of his spine, and he stiffened.

            His skin was so warm beneath my hand. I felt every stretch and twist of the muscle, watched his shoulders tightened and then relax. My left hand joined my right, fingers smoothing up the expanse of his back as I moved closer to him. His body stilled, and I swore that he held his breath.

            I leaned forward, pressed my cheek against his back, and wrapped my arms around him. My lips brushed against his skin… once, twice, three times. Every feather-light kiss was punctuated by three little words.

            “I love you,” I whispered against him. My heart swelled, felt like it was going to burst against my ribs. I was overcome by the sensation of falling, of having the whole world ripped out from beneath me. I held tighter to Chris, knowing he was my anchor in all of this.

            Chris gently unwrapped my arms from around his waist. He turned around and cradled my face in his palms. My fingertips brushed his ribs, felt his abdominals contract beneath my touch, settled on his belt. I looked up into his eyes and felt his gaze rove over my face. It was too much and not enough and I couldn’t breathe. I felt like everything had disappeared, like the whole of the universe had shrunk into just Chris and me, there in his childhood bedroom with snow falling outside.

            Something burned in his eyes, turning them a dark steely-blue. A shiver ran up my spine. My lips parted, my breath came in rapid pants. I was hyperaware of the fact that his bed was just a few feet away.

            He rested his forehead gently against mine, closing his eyes. His voice was gravelly and deep when he spoke. “Tatiana… I don’t think I have the strength to sleep in the same bed with you. Not when you touch me like that.”

            I blushed and felt something akin to power rush along my nerves. “I… I’ll sleep downstairs…”

            Chris growled and slipped his arms around me, pulling me closer. My hand splayed over his chest. A deep-seated part of my brain whispered _man man man man man_ over and over in my thoughts. I felt my knees turn to jelly.

            “Like hell you will,” he murmured.

            The world hung in suspension. I waited, waited for his mouth to crash down upon mine. For us to stumble across the room in some movie-version dash to the bed. So much of me wanted that. I almost asked for it…

            … Then I remembered everyone was downstairs, waiting for us.

            “You should… ah… get changed,” I whispered. My words came out quieter than I expected, almost as if my whole being was arguing against him putting clothes on.

            He sighed and pressed a light kiss to my forehead before moving away. He started rummaging in the dresser in the corner for some clothes. Before I got myself in trouble, I slipped out the room while his back was turned.

            Outside in the hallway, I leaned against the wall to catch my breath. Every inch of my body was alight with the strangest feeling. It was like I was a band, a spring coiled tighter and tighter until I was on the verge of expending the vast amount of energy that was trapped inside me. The thought of Chris just made it worse.

            Stella and Miles came down the hallway, Dodger bounding around ahead of them. He stopped and sniffed at the bottom of Chris’ door before coming over and promptly dropping down on the top of my feet.

            “Is Unca Chris coming?” Stella asked, reaching up for my hand.

            I let her grip my fingers and smiled. “He’ll be down in a few minutes. Let’s go get good seats, okay?”

            Stella smiled and nodded. We went downstairs, Stella on one side and Miles on the other. Dodger scampered along behind us. The living room floor had been covered with pillows and sleeping bags. Stella ran across the room and jumped into the pile of pillows. Miles went to climb up on the sofa. Dodger tried to decide between sitting with Stella and curling with Miles.

            Sebastian had appropriated one of the armchairs and smiled at me. “Are you happy?” he asked in Romanian. I smiled and nodded. He chuckled in return. “It’s about time. Fucking hell, you too, none of us are getting any younger.”

            I was about to say something when arms wrapped around me. Chris kissed my cheek and snuggled me firmly before he came to my side and took my hand. He grinned and then pulled me toward the pile of pillows that littered the floor.

            “This is my movie spot,” he said, blushing. He sat down and got comfortable, then pulled me down beside him, tucking me against his side. Stella curled up against his other side. “Best way to watch a movie, with my two best girls.”

            Sunlight warmth turned my insides golden. I loved him more with every breath he took. Chris hit play on the DVD remote and we got lost in the world of Ariel and Prince Eric.

            I tried not to laugh when Chris started singing _Part of Your World_ under his breath.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

 

            Only two people made it through the entire movie. One of them was me. The other was Stella. Sebastian snored in the armchair. Miles was curled up around Dodger on the sofa. Chris slept with his head tilted back on a pile of pillows. When the movie was over, I pried the remote from his hands and turned the DVD player off. Stella sat up and looked at me over Chris’ chest. She rubbed her eyes and yawned.

            “Are you ready for bed, Stella?” I asked quietly. Sebastian shuffled on his armchair. Dodger drooled.

            Stella nodded.

            I disentangled myself from Chris’ arms and reached out for his niece. She crawled over him and into my arms. She tucked her head against my shoulder and wrapped her legs around my torso. I looked down at her in surprise. Kids had never been my forte, but it seemed Stella approved of me being around.

            I pushed myself to my feet, ready to carry Stella upstairs to her bed. Before I could, her mom appeared. I smiled. “We beat the boys out.”

            Chris’ sister smiled. “That’s my girl.”

            Stella went to her mother, but not before giving me a warm little hug. I suddenly felt like I was going to cry. But in a very, very good way.

            I went back into the living room and stood against the doorway, looking at Chris. He was stretched out on the mound of pillows, his legs crossed at the ankles, one arm tucked against his stomach, the other still stretched out where I had been. The light from the television cast the shadows of his lashes against his cheeks. He looked so peaceful and so beautiful that I didn’t want to wake him. I wanted to find a blanket and just sleep beside him there in the floor.

            Dodger chose that moment to wake up. He jumped off the sofa and tried to sit on top of Chris. As soon as the dog dropped his weight on Chris’ stomach, Chris woke up with a grunt.

            “Get off, Dodger,” he grunted, pushing feebly at his pet.

            I smiled. “Give him kisses, Dodger,” I whispered.

            At the sound of his name, the dog raised its head and looked at me. I stifled laughter behind my hand when Dodger stuck out his tongue and licked Chris up the side of his face.

            “Damn it, Dodger!” Chris spat, flailing to try to get the dog off of him. I crouched and snapped my fingers to get Dodger’s attention. The dog padded across the pillows to me, his tongue lolling out. I scratched behind his ears and kissed the top of his head.

            Chris looked over to see me with Dodger, and smiled. The way he looked at me, the smile on his face, it was something different… something I hadn’t seen before. It softened his face. It made my heart stop in my chest.

            He pulled himself up from the floor and looked around, seeing Sebastian and Miles asleep, Stella gone, and me conspiring with his dog. He shook his head before he gently scooped Miles up into his arms. As he passed by, he reached for my hand. Together, we made our way up the stairs. While Chris took his nephew to bed, I ducked into his room.

            I walked across the room and turned back the bedcovers. The scent of his cologne washed over me, and I sighed happily. Not sure which side to sleep on, I sat on the edge of the bed, biting the tips of my fingers. Nervousness bubbled to the surface of my consciousness. I suddenly wanted to hide.

            I knew what my body wanted. I had an idea of what Chris wanted. And I couldn’t deny that the idea of just giving in and letting my instincts take control was tempting. But I didn’t know if I was ready, I didn’t think I could handle getting so close to him only to have it fall apart later. I didn’t want my heart broken.

            The door opened, and Chris slipped inside. He wore his own pair of pajama pants and a Boston Boys Club t-shirt. An image flashed in my mind of him without the shirt. My stomach clenched.

            He stayed on the other side of the room for a moment, leaning against the closed door. I felt his gaze on me like a physical touch. My skin tingled with warmth like the heat of a summer afternoon in the sunshine. My pulse quickened so fast that I didn’t know if I could catch my breath against the swelling of my heart in my chest. Panic threatened to thunder through me, snatch me from the happiness I wanted to cling to so desperately. 

            As if he could sense the fear threatening to overtake me, Chris crossed the room slowly, his hands out. He approached me with measured steps, his eyes locked on mine. His voice was soothing when he spoke.

            “Hey,” he said calmly, “it’s okay. I’ll… I’ll go sleep downstairs on the couch. We don’t have to sleep… _just sleep_ … in the same bed if you don’t want to.”

            His words bled into me one syllable at a time. I let their cadence and their gentleness soothe the terror that tried to take root in my belly. He stepped a little closer, one foot at a time until he stood in front of me. Gently, slowly, he reached out and stroked the back of his fingers against my cheek. His thumb brushed my chin, stroked my lower lip. I felt my lip tremble, tears on the verge of flowing.

            “It’s okay.”

            I closed my eyes and leaned into his touch. “I’m scared.”

            Chris tilted my face up to meet his eyes. “Tatiana… I will never ask you for more than you can give. More than you want to give.” He sighed and pressed his forehead against mine. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me.”

            I let out a whimper. “I’m not…”

            For a moment, we were silent. Then, gently, carefully, slowly, Chris lifted me into his arms. He kissed my forehead, my nose, my cheek. He deposited me in the center of the bed and sat down beside me, his fingers brushing against my wrist. He held my hand in his. I wondered if he was trying to gather his courage or if he was waiting for me to gather mine.

            “Don’t go,” I whispered, turning my hand over and lacing our fingers together. “Please?”

            Chris stretched out in the bed beside me. He piled a few pillows behind him and watched me carefully. At last, he held open his arms. “Come here, Tati.”

            Heart pounding, head spinning, I scooted over in the bed and put my head on his shoulder. He pulled the blankets up over us and reached over to turn of the light by the bed. His arms were solid and safe around me. I could hear every beat of his heart beneath my ear, could tell that he was just as nervous as I was.

            Darkness slowly crept up around us. It took a while for my eyes to adjust to the dimness, but when they did, I looked up toward Chris. Only to find that he was watching me as well. I smiled against his chest. His fingers run lightly up and down my back, sending me into a feeling of blissful relaxation. He nuzzled his nose against my hair.

            I draped one arm over his stomach. My fingers settled over his ribs, right where I knew a tattoo had been inked into his skin. My thumb rubbed back and forth, earning a skitter in his heartbeat beneath my ear.

            “Chris?”

            “Hmm?”

            Deep breath. Sigh.

            “Kiss me. Please?”

            He complied in the best of ways. His mouth moved over mine, along my cheeks and jaw, down my neck. His hands never strayed from my waist or my hair or my back. He let me set the pace. And when exhaustion finally overcame us, I slept in his arms with no fear.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

 

            The morning light woke me. I trickled through the window, twisting past the curtains and landing right in my eyes. Somehow, we had ended up curled toward each other. We were pressed together, his arms wrapped around me, holding me in my place tucked beneath his chin. One of my arms was caught between the two of us, the other was curled around his waist. Our legs were tangled together, and there was a lump pressing into my back.

            When the lump moved, I realized it was Dodger.

            I was able to wriggle backwards just enough to be able to look up at Chris as he slept. His eyelashes brushed his cheeks, looking impossibly long and completely unfair for a man to have. One cheek was scrunched up as it rested on his pillow. For the first time, I noticed the scar just above the bridge of his nose. His lips were slightly parted, and I could feel the warmth of his breath against my hair.

            Another kind of warmth tore through me when I thought of the time we’d spent the night before, wrapped up in each other’s arms. My blood thundered through my veins, carried a thousand feelings and fears and desires with it. I fought the urge to press my hips closer to him, to slide my fingers beneath the hem of his shirt.

            I closed my eyes again and snuggled closer to his chest. His arm tightened around me, tucking me so tight against him that I couldn’t ignore the bulge pressing against my stomach. My breath caught, and I tried so hard to keep myself from moaning aloud.

            Chris’ arm around me makes it impossible for me to move any further. I try to wiggle away, but the movement only makes him hold me tighter. His body heat was almost overwhelming, but it made me feel soothed and calm. His hold was tight but gentle, solid but yielding.

            A rumble vibrated through his chest, made every molecule in my being tremble with electricity. I was about to look up at him when he speaks, husky words boiling over me.

            “Don’t move, Tati, please.”

            I clear my throat. “Why?” I ask the question, even though I know the answer. I can feel it pressed against my stomach.

            He laughed, even though it made his body brush up against me even more. I held myself still, trying not to make the situation worse. I couldn’t deny that my body wanted to do something else.

            I swallowed hard. “What do you want me to do?”

            “What I _want_ you to do and what you probably _should_ do are two different things, Tati,” he said quietly. I felt the tension in his body beneath my fingertips. I heard the tightly controlled desire in his voice.

            I closed my eyes and threw caution to the wind. “What do you want me to do?” I repeat, opening my eyes to stare at his chest.

            Chris tipped my face up, his eyes meeting mine. He looked over my face, trying to read me. My entire being trembled in trepidation, in anticipation, in a rush of emotions that I didn’t understand. Chris shook his head slightly and kissed me softly, the barest of brushing of our mouths. I shuddered, wanting something that I didn’t know how to ask for.

            “Nothing, Tati. Nothing.” He rubbed his hand up my back and sighed. “I made a promise, remember?”

            With that, he slid out of bed. As he walked across the room toward the bathroom, I caught sight of the evidence of his arousal. Once he was in the bathroom with the door shut, I flung myself into the pillows and whimpered. A million emotions ran through my mind, some of them I couldn’t name, couldn’t manage to grasp long enough to understand.

            I heard water running and assumed Chris was in the shower. I sat up in the bed, hugging my knees to my chest. My brain ran in so many different directions, trying to figure out what I’d done wrong. It felt almost impossible to organize my thoughts, my fears, and my emotions to understand what I had done to upset him. Tears glittered in my eyes, careened down my cheeks.

            After a moment, I turned over and pulled the blankets up until I was practically hidden beneath them. I buried my face in the pillow and cried. Frustration and confusion and a sudden deep feeling of inadequacy rushed through me. I was no virgin, but I had never felt… _this_ for anyone. Nothing in my life had ever come close to the way Chris Evans made me feel. It was like I was rushing headlong into something that I couldn’t see, and I didn’t know if the ground would be beneath my feet if I kept going.

            The bathroom door opened. I fought to keep from turning over, from letting him see my tear-stained face and heartbroken smile. There was a rustle of clothes, quiet cursing, then the dip of the bed behind me.

            “Tatiana?” He didn’t touch me, but I could feel his presence just as much as if he had. “Tati… Look at me.”

            I shook my head like a petulant child. Tugged the blankets tighter around me like a shield. My heart hurt, and I didn’t know how to build up the defenses to protect it.

            I felt Chris stretch out in the bed behind me. He curled his massive arm around me and pulled me carefully back against him. My pillow lifted as he wedged his other arm beneath my head, cradling me in his embrace. The tears came harder as the inadequacy grew.

            “I love you,” he whispered fiercely against the back of my neck. “I love you.”

            Just the sound of those words coming from his lips made me want to sob even more. I tried to memorize the way in which he held me, the safety I felt in his arms, the golden happiness that painted my heart when I was near him. I didn’t want to give it up, but I was so afraid that I wouldn’t have a choice.

            Chris pressed his mouth softly along the curve of my neck, little open-mouthed kisses that left me shivering. His hand splayed over my belly, pulling me closer. He sighed against my skin.

            “I _want_ you, Tatiana Dalca. You have no idea how much.” He nipped the spot where my neck and shoulder met. It made it very difficult to think, to remember why I was crying. “I don’t want you to feel like you _have_ to do anything you aren’t ready for. I would _never_ do that to you.”

            Before I could change my mind, I turned over in his arms and pulled him close to me. I pressed my lips against his, held him tight as I kissed him with all the desire I felt for him. It may have been a horribly bad idea, but I couldn’t stand the hurt in his voice. I needed him to know that I felt the same, that it wasn’t him I was afraid of. It was myself.

            When we separated, I cupped his face in my hands, met his gaze and tried desperately to speak without breaking apart.

            “I’m terrified of how I feel,” I said, brushing my thumbs over his cheeks, feeling the roughness of his beard against my skin. “I’m terrified of how much I love you so soon.”

            Chris took my hands, kissed my palms, the tips of each of my fingers. He closed his eyes and pressed my clasped hands against his lips, breathing in the scent of my skin.

            “I don’t want you to be scared of what you feel.” He sounded as if he was about to cry. “I don’t want this for you, Tati.”

            I closed my eyes, pulled my hands from his grasp. Panic ate at my heart. I felt the same as I had that day at the parade. Like I was losing control. It was so hard to breathe, to think straight.

            Tenderly, Chris drew me against him. He settled his mouth against my ear. “What do you need from me, Tati? What do you need to feel safe with me?”

            I let his words sink into me. I hung on each letter, the vibration of each syllable, the meaning of each word. Every inch of my being ached for him—for his touch, his happiness, his love.

            “Look at me, please,” I whispered. When he did, I had that feeling again. The Black Sea lapping at my toes. _Bunicǎ_ ’s voice telling stories in the night. The blue-green of his eyes, the flutter of those impossibly unfair lashes, the hue of his hair, the curve of his mouth and the line of his jaw—it all became a summer on the water and an autumn on the pier.

            I smiled softly. “Always be _home_. _Acasǎ_. Give me time. Love me.”

            The way in which his body relaxed, the way the tension released out of him, it gave me a sense of hope. He sighed. “Every day. Every minute.”

            There was a knock on the door. I heard Sebastian’s voice call through the wood. “Breakfast!” In Romanian, he shouted out, “You better be dressed in there, Little Dalca!”

            Groaning, tension broken, I wanted to hide from my cousin for the rest of my life.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

 

            Chris’ mom had breakfast spread out on every surface in the kitchen. It appeared that the Evans family ate everything buffet style. There were blueberry muffins and eggs and bacon, sausage and hashbrowns, a pile of biscuits and butter, ham and toast with jam and jelly. At first, I couldn’t understand why Mrs. Evans had made so much food.

            Then I saw Chris and Sebastian going through the line and remembered how much food the two of them alone could put away.

            I felt shy as everyone went around with plates, taking whatever they wanted and still leaving plenty behind for everyone else. Mrs. Evans stood by the fridge pouring orange juice and milk and managing a coffee pot all at the same time. Carly handed me a plate and smiled.

            “Don’t be shy, hon. You’re family. Eat!”

            A smile brushed my cheeks as I took the plate, holding it to my chest as if it’s something precious. She had no idea what those words meant to me. Chris’ family had accepted me so readily, so completely, and I didn’t know how to repay them for it. Chris looked at me over the island bar, a spoon in his mouth and his hair sticking up. This sensation of contentment brushed down my spine, settled into my bones, kissed against my skin.

            I smiled back, my face burning as I remembered being in his arms. Under the watchful eye of his mother and sisters, I took a little bit of everything. My stomach was grumbling by the time my plate was full and I had a glass of juice in my hand. I looked around, trying to find a place to sit. Chris caught my eye and waved me over.

            Putting my plate on the table, I let him tug me gently down to sit on his knee. Sebastian sat on his other side. My cousin leaned back in his chair and watched the two of us with a careful gaze.

            “Are you okay?” he asked softly, his Romanian barely a whisper.

            I thought of the strength of my affection for Chris, the way that I was at once ready to embrace it and terrified of it. I thought of how I felt when Chris touched me, when he smiled at me, when I heard his voice.

            I tucked my messy hair behind my ear. “I’m okay. He makes me happy.”

            Chris settled his palm on the small of my back, raised his juice to his mouth with the other. “I’m going to learn that fucking language eventually.”

            “Christopher!”

            I snorted, nearly choking on the toast I’d just bitten off. Sebastian snickered and started laughing.

            “Sorry, Ma! Sorry!” I turned to look at him, seeing him turning pink around the ears. “She doesn’t like it when I swear in front of the kids.”

            Stella and Miles were sitting at a little table in the corner. Dodger his underneath the table, obviously waiting for scraps and crumbs to hit the floor. They seemed oblivious to the language their Uncle Chris was using, but I couldn’t fault his mom for wanting him to avoid that particular word in front of them.

             We ate together, laughing and joking between bites and trips for seconds or thirds. As I looked around at Chris’ parents, his sisters, his niece and nephew… I was overwhelmed by a sense of peace and belonging. The doubt that gnawed at my heart gave way to a settled rhythm of acceptance. The cacophony of thoughts died away into a gentle silence. His hand rubbed up and down my back tenderly, reminding me he was there.

            Chris’ mom smiled at me from across the room. It looked like she had tears in her eyes, but I couldn’t figure out why. She nodded at me, a silent blessing of her approval.

            When I turned back toward Chris, I found him watching me, a slight smile turning up the corners of his mouth. It was almost an angelic expression. My heart stopped beating. Every atom buzzing around in my body stilled. Everything hung on the look on his face, the way he looked at me as if I was something otherworldly.

            Heedless of everyone else, I leaned forward and rested my forehead against his. “I love you,” I whispered.

            Chris nuzzled his nose against mine. “I love you, too.”

            Sebastian groaned. “Sweet _Zeu_ , what have I done?”

 

            We stayed with Chris’ family until it warmed up enough to let the salt on the roads start to work. I helped Chris’ mom and his sister Shanna wash the dishes from breakfast. Chris bundled up in some spare clothes and went out to shovel the driveway and the sidewalk. It was very domestic, watching him work from the kitchen window. Part of me wondered if this could be my life in the future. I couldn’t deny that it seemed like a happy life.

            “I haven’t seen him smile like this for a long time,” Shanna said from beside me. She sacked dishes in the cabinets after I dried them. “Thank you for that.”

            I blushed.

            “He’s amazing,” I whispered. “When he invited us to the parade in New York, he took me to see _Hamilton_ rehearse. He… He’s like home.”

            Chris’ mom turned to me, drying her hands on a towel. She looked like she was going to cry. After a moment, she pulled me into a hug. It was like one of Chris’ hugs—warm and enveloping and perfectly secure. I hugged her back, fighting my own tears.

            When Mrs. Evans spoke, her voice cracked. “He says you’re like calm. Like quiet. He says you make all the noise just die out.” She smiled a little. “I know, it sounds strange, but Chris is so philosophical sometimes. It’s a good thing. I promise.”

            Tears burned, and I started to cry. Mrs. Evans wiped my cheeks with her thumbs and gave me a reassuring grin. “He loves you so much. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

            “I love him, too,” I said, needing his mother to know that I was overwhelmed with the way I loved her son. “I love him so much that it scares me.”

            “Oh, darling,” she said, catching me in another hug. She rocked me back and forth, holding me tightly. “Christopher is a good man, Tatiana. He isn’t perfect, but he’s a good man. And he loves you. He’ll listen to you. That much, I know I’ve taught him.”

            That made me laugh, and I stood back, wiping my eyes. “It feels like it’s happening so fast. And I’m afraid of what happens when the time comes for me to go back to Constanta. I have a life there, I don’t want to give up my life. But I don’t want to lose him… How does this work? How could it ever work?”

            Mrs. Evans opened her mouth to speak, but her words died on her lips when she looked over my shoulder. Boots stamped across the floor. In an instant, I felt myself being enveloped in crisp fabric and the smell of sweat and snow. Solid arms went around me, a pair of warm lips descended upon mine, trying to draw out the fear and sadness that coiled in my blood.

            When I was released, I looked up to see Chris watching me with a fierce certainty in his gaze. There was snow in his hair, melting in his beard. His face—that face that I loved so much—looked as if it had been chiseled out of marble by an ancient master. Color rode high on his cheeks.

            “I’ll buy a fucking house in Constanta, that’s what happens. I’ll rack up a million miles on a plane.” His voice was sure, filled with fire and certainty. He cupped my face in his hands. “We’ll make it work.”

            His fierceness suddenly gave way to something gentle, something filled with longing. He brushed his thumbs against my cheeks, brought me against his chest. Beneath the sweat, I could smell the scent that was wholly Chris. I felt the warmth of his skin and the solidity of his body beneath my hands.

            “We’ll do this together, Tati. I don’t want to take your life away.” He hugged me carefully, a gentle squeeze. “I want to fit into it. That’s all. Just fit into it.”

            I was aware of his family standing around, his mother witnessing this moment that I didn’t know how to manage. I reached up to brush my fingers across his jaw, to feel him warm and there and real.

            “Together.”


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

 

            We drove back to Boston in an easy silence. Sebastian sat in the back seat, grumbling about how his back hurt from sleeping on the sofa. Chris teased him good naturedly, holding onto my hand as he drove. The city was blanketed in snow. People walked down the icy sidewalks as if they did it every day. I watched everything rush by, letting my thoughts tumble over the things Chris said to me, the things his mother said to me. Somehow, I had to believe, it would work out.

            Chris dropped us off at the hotel, promising to call in a while. He kissed me before I got out of the car. The smile didn’t leave my face even after he drove away.

            I took a shower and curled up in the bed in my hotel room. Thinking seemed like a good thing to do. I snatched up a piece of paper and a pen, planning on writing down the pros and cons of agreeing to Sebastian’s suggestion that I move to the US permanently. I didn’t get very far, as I was interrupted by a knock on the door.

            Sighing, I let Sebastian in and shut the door behind him. “Why am I not surprised you came down?”

            My cousin smiled and sat on the spare bed facing me. “I wanted to check on you.”

            “I’m alright, _frate-vǎrul._ ” I smiled. “You don’t have to keep asking.”

            Sebastian sighed and stretched out, leaning back on his hands. “Little Dalca, I’ll always have to ask. I just want you to be happy.”

            I curled back up in the bed, abandoning my list as I pulled the covers back over me. For a moment, I had nothing to say. I knew that if I even mentioned to Sebastian that I was thinking of moving to the US, he would jump on it as if the decision had already been made. And I knew that I wasn’t ready to make that decision. My thoughts were still too jumbled to be rational just then.

            “I am happy, Sebastian,” I said quietly. My throat burned with a threat of tears. I tried to clear away the feeling. “I’ve never been this happy before.”

            My cousin smiled. However, after just a moment, it faded. “Then why do you look like you’re about to cry?”

            The sniffle came without my consent. I hugged my pillow against my chest. “Because I’m scared, Sebastian.”

            “What are you scared of?” His face suddenly took on the hue of thunder. “What did he do? What did Chris do?”

            I shook my head. “He didn’t do anything. He didn’t do anything, I swear.”

            I watched Sebastian’s muscles flex beneath his shirt as he clenched his fists. He looked as if he was about to come off the bed and go chasing after Chris. It took him a few moments to get himself together. When he did, he ran his hand through his hair.

            “Did I make a mistake, Little Dalca? Did I do something wrong when I introduced you?”

            I shot up, afraid that he was going to try to undo everything he’d done. A fear greater than the one that I felt about my affection for Chris welled up in me. “No,” I started crying in earnest then. I may have let some of my fear come out in front of Chris’ mother, but I still felt caught under the confusion and the uncertainty.

            It was a fight to get a breath deep enough to speak. “I love him, _frate-vǎrul._ I love him so much that I feel like I can’t get away from it. I don’t know how to be here and be in Constanta. He makes me want to give up everything, Seb.”

            Sebastian got up and crossed the space between us. “Don’t you dare,” he spat vehemently. “You have worked so hard for everything you’ve done. I love Chris to death, but he isn’t worth giving that up. If he loves you like I know he does, then he won’t let you do something like that. And if he does, I’ll kill him.”

            That brought out a little laugh, one that pushed some of the tears away. “I’m afraid to give in. To just go… all in.”

            Sebastian sighed and shook his head. “I don’t want to know what you and Chris do when you’re alone. But I want you to know something, Little Dalca. You don’t have to control everything. Sometimes… sometimes it’s okay to just be in the moment. I think Chris is willing to give you time to just be, and to let you be yourself.”

            He stood and kissed my hair. Then he placed my phone on the bed by my hand. “Call him, Little Dalca. He’ll come running.”

            I waited until the door closed behind my cousin before I picked up the phone to call Chris. At that moment, I didn’t know what I intended to ask, what I wanted from him. All I knew was that I wanted to hear the sound of his voice. I wanted to know he was still real.

            The phone rang a few times before he answered. “Hey,” he said softly. His voice slipped into me, flowing through my veins like honey. “How are you?”

            I licked my lips, suddenly feeling the words bubble up against my tongue. “I love you. I just need to tell you.”

            I heard the smile in his voice, wished I could see it. “I love you too, Tatiana Dalca.”

            The words tripped over my tongue and tap danced past my teeth. Once they were out, I held my breath. “Come back. Come back to the hotel. Please?”

            Chris was silent on his end of the line. I began to wonder if he was going to speak, wondered if I’d done something wrong by saying it. At last, I heard him. Concern painted his tone. “Are you okay?”

            “I’m okay. And I know I just saw you…” All at once, I was at a loss for words.

            “I’ll be there in half an hour.”

 

            He knocked so lightly on the door that I almost didn’t hear it. I pulled the door open without looking through the peephole. It was as if my body could sense him on the other side, like I didn’t need to see to know that he was so close. Chris stood there with a faint smile twisting his mouth, one hand behind his back, the other braced on the door frame. When he saw me, his smile grew wider.

            “God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered. It was sweet and awe-filled. It made my heart flutter. It made me feel peaceful.

            Like all the noise died away.

            He drew his hand out from behind his back and brought it to his chest. In his fist, he held a bouquet of red roses that were fat and in full bloom. He bowed his head a little, watching me beneath his lashes.

            I wished, in that moment, that I had my phone in my hand. This moment, this _feeling_ was something I wanted to keep forever. He smiled and held the bouquet out to me. When I reached for it, he hooked his free arm around my waist, pulling me against him.

            I let out a surprised laugh. I threw my arms around his neck as I lost my balance. A squeal burst out of me when he lifted me off my feet with one arm. He took two steps into the room and pushed the door shut with his foot.

            Chris carried me, one armed, across the room and deposited me on the end of the bed. He held the roses out to me again, this time letting me take them. The roses smelled so heavy and sweet. Chris stood just a few feet away, looming so tall and broad and solid, still giving me the room and freedom to set the pace. I took a deep breath and leaned back to sit the roses on the bedside table.

            Then I looked at Chris. Took a deep breath. Crooked my finger at him.

            “Come here. Please?”

            He leaned forward, braced himself on his hands on the mattress. His face was inches from mine. Close enough that I could feel the stir of his breath. My hands reached up to cup his jaw. I slid my gaze over his face, traced the way his pupils dilated as he looks at me. My fingertips brushed his ears, stroked into his hair. I watched his lips part. I saw the pounding of his pulse at the base of his neck.

            I tilted my head to brush my nose against his. Our mouths rested a millimeter apart, so close I felt the tingle that ran across my lip. My chin lifted. The barest of touches between our lips ignited a fire in my soul. I felt the words pounding through my veins. _Just be_.

            My tongue darted out, skated across my bottom lip. A growl erupted from Chris’ throat even as I tightened my hold in his hair, pulled him closer.  We crashed back onto the mattress, Chris rolling to the side to keep his weight from landing on me. One of his hands cradled the back of my head. The other held me close to him, settled against my ribs.

            He kissed me with a restrained kind of passion. He stroked his tongue against my mouth, nipped my lips, drew a symphony of little gasping sighs from my deepest being. His fingers brushed along my side, counted my ribs and walked the hill of my hip. I wrapped my arms around his back, fisted my hands in his shirt, dug my fingers into his muscle.

            Chris retreated enough to look into my eyes. His face was flushed, and his blue-green eyes were bright rings around dark pupils. I swallowed, bit my lip.

            “What do you want, Tati?”

            I knew if I gave myself time to think, to rationalize, I would talk myself out of it. I wanted—needed—to _just be_.

            “You. I just want you.”

            “Are you sure?”

            I nodded and felt his body relax into mine. His next kiss was light, lingering.

            “Then I’m going to take my time.”


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

 

            The promise in those words seeped into my skin, sending a cascade of goosebumps along my body. Chris leaned over me, gazing at me with that tender look in his eyes. Contentment and desire warred within me as he danced his fingertips along the curve of my cheek. I wanted that moment to last forever.

            Seconds stretched into eternity as he ghosted his lips along my brow, down the bridge of my nose, the rise and fall of my cheeks. His nose traced my jaw, the heat of his breath trickled along my neck, threatened to steal my own from my chest. His fingers tangled in my hair, guided my movement, brought my neck into contact with his mouth, my ear to the sharp nip and soothe of his teeth and tongue.

            “Chris,” I murmured, my voice shaking with the tenderness of his caresses. I cupped his cheek in my hand.

            He stopped, looked at me with eyes that were dilated with desire. The muscles of his jaw bunched beneath my palm. “Are you okay?”

            My lips tipped up with a smile. I nodded. “Can I…?”

            Trembling fingers reached for the hem of his black sweater. His abdominals contracted beneath the touch. His breath hitched. He nodded, kissed me softly. He sat up and lifted his arms as I pulled his sweater over his head. A heavy thump crashed against my ribs and stole my breath. I didn’t stop myself when my instinct took over.

            My fingertips smoothed over the words inked beneath his right collarbone. I read them, whispered them, traced them as if I was trying to burn them into my memory. I dipped my tongue into the hollow above the tattoo. My teeth scraped softly against his collarbone, my lips worshipped the words he had made forever part of him.

            His chest heaved a little beneath my touch. I kissed my way to his shoulder, ran my tongue over the bull on his bicep. I breathed in the scent of his skin, that faint tone of cologne overlying that aroma that was just him. His chest rumbled with a groaning growl, and I smiled against his shoulder.

            “Jesus, woman,” he grunted, bringing his hands up to still my own. His eyes were dark, and his lips were parted as he panted for breath. I smiled, a rush of power and desire spilling into my blood.

            He brought his mouth down on mine in a scorching kiss, his hands wrapping in my hair as he kissed me with an abandon that was only barely controlled. I whimpered against his lips, dug my fingers into his ribs. When he released me, I couldn’t breathe. I felt like I was on fire from the inside out. Like the cosmos had come to rest in my belly and it was swirling, pulsating to break free.

            “My turn,” he whispered against my ear. His fingertips skated down my arms. For a moment, he hand my hands with tenderness. He kissed each of my knuckles and nuzzled his nose against my wrists. He twisted his fingers in my shirt, skimmed it up over my torso and deftly tossed it over his shoulder.

            Embarrassment threatened to drown out the wonderful sensations Chris brought out in my body. I fought the desire to cover my body with my arms. I felt his gaze along the line of my collarbones, the curves of my breasts, the flare of my waist into my hips, the belly that I’d always hated. The expression on his face was of wonder, of something like watching some force of nature blow by. I blushed, and heat started at the tops of my breasts, running up to my cheeks.

            Chris groaned, swearing under his breath. In that moment, it didn’t matter that I wasn’t in my best underwear, or that I hadn’t put on any make up. What mattered was the way he looked at me, the way it made me feel like I was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He licked his lips and I was lost.

            I pulled him against me, intending to kiss him. But when the warmth of his bare skin against mine tore a moan from my throat. His lips attacked my throat, his tongue charted a path down to my chest. My fingers dug into his hair as he nuzzled against the swell of my breasts. Almost too soon, he backed away. He crawled backwards off the bed, leaving me feeling bereft.

            “Chris?”

            He smiled confidently. “Shh, trust me.”

            He locked eyes as he hooked his fingers into the band of my pants and drew them down my legs. They joined my shirt somewhere on the floor. Chris stood there, his eyes roaming from the tips of my toes to the top of my head. I blushed when he unbuckled his belt, dropped his pants to the floor. I watched as he picked up one of the roses from the bedside table and carefully tore a petal from it.

            He crawled back onto the bed beside me. For a long while, he just held me against him, giving me time to relax, to let go of my trepidation. He kissed me softly and slowly, sweeping his tongue along my lips with little groans that vibrated straight to my core. I felt like my body had a mind of its own—my hips pressed forward toward him, my hands skimmed down his back, toying with the band of his boxer-briefs.

            The arms that wrapped around me were gentle. They drew me carefully to the center of the bed, settled a pillow behind my head. “Relax,” he whispered, kissing the corner of my mouth. “Close your eyes.”

            My chest heaved with anticipation and fear as he hovered nearby, propping himself up on his elbow. He kissed me again, trying to give me some peace. After an instant, I closed my eyes. In a split second, I became hyper aware of the feel of his body nearby.

            Something brushed beneath my jaw and trailed down the side of my neck. The sensation of warm lips and the soft caress of his beard followed. Every little, tickling caress was followed by open-mouthed kisses and nuzzles from the tip of his nose. I sighed when he gently undid and slipped my bra from my body. I held my breath as the sensation traced along the flesh of my breasts. My back arched and my stomach clenched when I felt the heat of his mouth, the flick of his tongue, and the sharpness of his teeth around my nipple. I couldn’t think. Every synapse was firing at the same time—the feel of his body pressing against me, his mouth on one breast, the sweep of the tickling sensation along the other. My body reacted, my legs opening and my hips writhing on the bed.

            The sensation dipped lower. He left little bites along the flesh around my navel. I opened my eyes in time to see Chris settling himself on his stomach on the bed between my legs. I realize the tickling sensation was the rose petal. As I watched, he dragged the rose petal along the band of my underwear. He rested his cheek against the inside of my thigh, pressing little kisses everywhere he could reach.

            He leaned forward and, looking up to find me watching him, pressed a kiss to my core just above my clit. My back arched up off the bed, my head thrashing a little against the pillows. Chris chuckled darkly against my thigh.

            Then he hooked his finger into my panties and pulled them gently to the side. When his nose brushed against my core, I squealed and fisted my fingers in the sheets. His tongue darted out, licked slowly along my slit. Each slow lap of his tongue brought him closer to where I was desperate to have his mouth.

            I moaned his name, bucked my hips, and felt the world shatter as he wrapped his lips around my clit and flicked his tongue over it.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

 

            I was lost from that first touch of his mouth against me. My hips nearly bucked up off the bed, but Chris wrapped his arms around my thighs and held me in place. His tongue flicked against my clit, curled and twisted around it. I felt the shiver run across my skin, the tremble make my hips writhe.

            Chris looked up at me, his eyes dark, his tongue running over his lips. “Are you fond of these?” he asked with a husky voice. It took a moment for my lust addled mind to realize he meant my underwear.

            I shook my head.

            He wrapped both hands around the side of my underwear and pulled. I heard the faint sound of ripping fabric. He repeated the sound on the other side. Before I realized it, he had pulled the scraps of my underwear away from my body, thrown it over his shoulder. In a moment, he had settled back between my thighs again.

            This time, he didn’t waste his energy on teasing. His arms wrapped around my thighs, held my legs open, as he licked and nipped my core with abandon. My hands wrapped in his hair, fingers grabbing fistfuls of it and pulling him closer to me. My hips bucked, writhed against his tongue in search of the pleasure his mouth promised.

            “ _Zeu_ ,” I squealed when I felt him slip a finger inside me. He matched the rhythm of his finger to the flick and lick of his tongue. I keened, pulling on his hair, too far gone to wonder if it was painful.

            My muscles seized, as he pushed a second finger slowly in with the first. I felt the coiling of pleasure low in my belly. It spiraled out into my limbs. My breath caught, it felt like my heart stopped. He didn’t stop stroking his fingers into me, fluttering them against a spot inside me that I hadn’t managed to hit before. My orgasm seemed to go on forever. His ministrations drew it out, never letting the waves of pleasure dissipate.

            Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. His touch was too much. I pushed at his hands gently. He crawled up my body, his nose nuzzling against my shoulder as he drew me against him. I curled against his chest trying my best to calm my racing heart. His thumb brushed against my belly. I felt his lashes brush against my skin as he lay quietly beside me.

            “I love you,” he prayed against my arm. “I love you. I love you.”

            I smiled and turned toward him, resting my palm against his cheek. He grinned at me, and a little laugh rumbled through his chest. “Are you happy?” he asked.

            “Mostly,” I replied, biting my lip.

            His eyes became serious. The soft caress of his thumb on my belly stilled. “What’s the matter?”

            My words suddenly ran dry. I felt the tingling afterglow of my orgasm fade, only to have it replaced by a stronger hunger. “I need…” I closed my eyes, took a deep breath. “I want more. I need more.”

            Chris smiled at me, leaned forward to kiss my shoulder once more. He got up, retrieved his pants and started rummaging in the pocket. When he came back to the bed, a foil wrapper was in his hand. I breathed a sigh of relief, realizing I hadn’t thought about that until just then. He lay back down beside me, gently pulled me against him.

            My hips settled flush with his. I could feel his cock pressing into me. My brain shut down. My hands wanted to fumble with his underwear, get them off off off.

            He dusted kisses along my neck. “Are you sure?”

            “God, yes,” I whined.

            Chris kicked off his underwear, and I couldn’t help the little gasp that worked its way out of me. For a split second, I felt a rush of panic. I closed my eyes and breathed slowly. I heard the crinkle of the foil wrapper opening. He groaned, and then I felt his hands on my cheeks.

            “Look at me,” he whispered softly.

            I opened my eyes, looked up into the face that I adored so much. He brushed his thumb over my cheek. “We don’t have to do anything. Not if you don’t want to.”

            The softness in his voice soothed the fear in my mind. I smiled at him, put my hands to his chest, and rolled him onto his back. I straddled his hips and rested my palms against his chest. My hips rocked back and forth slowly. Chris let his mouth drop open. His head tilted back against the pillows.

            I reached between us, guided him into place, and slowly sank down on his cock. My breath whooshed out of me as I lifted up and came back down, over and over again. At last, I felt all of him inside me, my body twisted tight as a bowstring.

            Chris’ hands rested against my hips. He held me steady even as he let me take control. Before long, I had abandoned the long, slow strokes and gave in to a quick rolling of my hips up and down. Chris tilted my hips, making me fall forward onto his chest. He planted his feet on the bed and started meeting my thrusts with his own.

            My mouth fell open, and little half-formed gasps and moans washed over his chest. He grunted with each pump of his hips, his movements became more erratic as he chased his own release. His hips pressed into my clit with every thrust, every filling stroke.

            His mouth settled against my ear. I heard every moan, every swear, every grunt that passed his lips. “Come for me,” he growled. “Please.”

            His words burned through my nerves, coiled that wonderful tension in my center. I arched my back, he hit that spot inside me, and I squealed as my body tensed and pulsed with glorious pleasure. Chris gripped my hips tightly as he pounded through my orgasm.

            He groaned and wrapped his arms around me, holding me to his chest as he thrust into me one last time. His hips jerked with every panting moan that flooded into my ears.

            For a long while, the room was filled with nothing but the sound of our breathing. I curled against his chest, feeling it rise and fall beneath my cheek. When I looked up, I saw his lashes pressed against his cheeks, his lips parted as he caught his breath. My heart thumped in my chest, swelled with love and adoration for the man who held me in his arms.

            “Chris,” I murmur, kissing the tattoo beneath his collarbone. “I love you so much.”

            I felt him smile. He tightened his arms around me. “I love you, too.”

            It seemed like forever passed when Chris kissed the top of my head and gently disentangled us from each other. He grabbed his underwear from the floor and went into the bathroom. A moment later, he came back, smiling contentedly. I was still in the bed, the sheets wrapped around me. A smile burst over my face when he came back to bed.

            Chris drew me carefully against his chest, brushed my hair back from my face, and tilted my chin up. He kissed me softly and slowly, a chaste kind of cherishing kiss. His body warmed me as I fell asleep in Chris’ arms, completely at peace.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

 

            I woke up to darkness outside. It took a moment for me to recall where I was and what had happened. When I did, I couldn’t stop the smile that spread over my face. A sense of calm had taken root in the center of my chest. Little filaments of it spread out through my entire being, wrapped around my muscles and nerves, until no part of me was free of its influence.

After a moment, my eyes adjusted to the dim light. I turned onto my side, and saw Chris asleep beside me. His lashes cast little shadows on his cheeks. He smiled in his sleep, an upturn of the corner of his mouth. It was at once cocky and boyish, and it made my heart leap. His hair was tousled. He slept on his back, one arm draped over his stomach, the other bent up with his palm cradling his head.

He looked so content. I couldn’t bear to wake him. Carefully, I slipped out of bed and headed toward the bathroom. On my way, I picked up Chris’ black sweater and a new pair of underwear from the suitcase.

I almost didn’t recognize myself in the mirror when I turned on the light. My hair was mussed and tangled. My cheeks were bright with color. There were small little pink spots on my skin where Chris had nipped and sucked my skin. I remembered the way he’d touched me, the way he’d kissed me and held me, and in that moment I liked the way my body looked. Knowing that Chris had taken so much pleasure in what happened, I thought the curves and swells of my body couldn’t be so bad.

I washed my face and cleaned up a little before pulling on the underwear and Chris’ sweater. His scent enveloped me as the sweater nearly swallowed me. It slipped off my shoulder and fell down to just the tops of my thighs. Grinning, I realized I liked the way I looked in his clothes.

When I tiptoed back into the bedroom, I stopped for a moment to just look at him. He hadn’t moved from where he had been when I got up. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. My eyes traced the shadows around his muscles, the darkness of his tattoos against his skin. My fingers itched to brush through his hair and stroke his cheek. I smiled, catching my bottom lip in my teeth as I watched him sleep.

After a while, I made my way across the room and slipped back into the bed beside him. Despite my desire to let him sleep, I scooted close and pillowed my head on his chest. I pressed a kiss to the tattoo beneath his collarbone and just listened to the sound of his breathing. I understood what Chris meant when he said that being with me made all the noise go quiet. The fear that had plagued me from the first moment I contemplated entering this relationship… it was just gone.

It was finally silent in my thoughts. A silence that being with Chris amplified in such a way that it was the stillness of early morning, with all the potential of something great and wonderful to come.

Only half an hour later, Chris grunted and stirred. I felt him stretch beneath my hands. His arms came around me. His hand ran up and down my arm. I heard him chuckle.

“Do you like that sweater?” I glanced up to see him smirking teasingly.

I smiled. “I like it on you better.”

He slid his hand down my back, resting it on the flare of my hip. “Hmm, I was just going to say the same thing.”

My fingers walked across his chest, feeling the dusting of hair over hard muscle. He laughed, a rumble that vibrated through my body. I pressed a kiss over his heart.

“I love you so much,” I declared. The more I spoke the words, the more they worked their way into my psyche, the more they seemed like they were a part of me in every way.

Chris sat up in the bed, gently taking me with him. He moved me so that I sat on his lap, his arms holding me at the hip and knee. He curled me against him, brushed my hair from my face. His lips brushed my temple.

“Tatiana Dalca, I don’t have words to tell you how much I love you. I just know that you… you give me peace.” I knew this meant something coming from Chris. And it made my breath stop in my lungs.

Before I could speak, my stomach grumbled. I laughed and looked up into his beautiful face. “I’m starving.”

“You should be. You worked up quite an appetite.” There was a dark shadow that sparked in his eyes, a spark of desire. His tongue swept over his lip. An ache settled in my belly.

Courage welled in me. “I’m surprised you’re hungry. You had plenty to eat.”

Chris’ brows lifted at the bawdy implication. He leaned forward, nuzzled his nose against my ear, and purred with an erotic timbre to his voice. “Oh I think that’s my new favorite. I think I could eat that every day.”

I blushed from the tops of my breasts all the way to the roots of my hair. My breath caught, and my mouth fell open in surprise.

He laughed. “Don’t play that game with me, Tatiana Dalca. Because I can play it, and I play to win.”

The expression that painted his features was enough to make me feel weak in the knees. Combined with the sound of his voice… I couldn’t think of anything other than the way his mouth felt on my body, the soft scratching of his beard on the inside of my thighs. He looked at me as if he knew exactly what I was thinking.

We sat in a charged silence for a long moment. He locked his eyes with mine and didn’t look away. I couldn’t help but pant softly. I wanted to feel him over and inside me.

My stomach grumbled, ruining the moment. Chris laughed, leaning back against the headboard and pressing his hand over his heart. The sound tinkled over my skin, making my limbs feel weak and light.

“Come on. How about a pizza? There’s a great place that delivers.” Chris brushed his thumb along my chin, making me tremble.

“Pizza sounds great,” I rasped, trying to swallow.

He dropped a chaste kiss on my mouth before cautiously sitting me to the side. He pulled himself out of bed and picked up his pants. He dug out his phone and snickered.

“I wouldn’t check your phone if I were you.”

I quirked a brow. “Why?”

Chris rolled his eyes and came back to the bed, sitting on the edge. He held his phone out toward me. Sebastian’s name was at the top of a list of text messages. The most recent message was written in all capital letters, followed by at least a dozen exclamation points.

_I CAN FUCKING HEAR YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_

I covered my face, embarrassment flooding through me. “Oh my God,” I groaned. “Were we _that_ loud?”

Chris growled. “Well… you were.”

My mind cast onto the most embarrassing fact of all. If Sebastian had been able to hear us in the room directly above…

“I am never leaving this room again.”

He wrapped his arms around me, pulled me out of the bed and onto my feet. I hid my face against his chest. He tipped my face up with his finger. “There’s nothing for you to be ashamed of. Let them hear you, because the sound of you when you…” He trailed off, his Adam’s Apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed hard.

I licked my lips and pushed gently against his chest. “Food! Food!”

Chris groaned and picked up his phone to call for some pizza. I opened the curtains and looked out onto the city. Everything was blanketed with snow that glittered a thousand colors in the lights strung between buildings. Christmas was coming soon, and I knew I had to get Chris something wonderful.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

 

            On Christmas Eve, I was a nervous wreck. Chris’ family had invited us to come be a part of their Christmas dinner. Sebastian accepted without asking. This time, I wasn’t upset with him. I was more than happy to go.

            I spent three days trying to find the right outfit and the right gifts. I hadn’t brought a whole lot of extra money with me, but I tried to get something for Chris, his mom and dad, Stella, Miles, and Dodger. The gifts for Dodger and the kids were easy, but I didn’t know what to get his parents. And I wasn’t entirely sure what to get him.

            Sebastian had finally gone with me to pick something out. By the time we arrived at the Evans house in the late afternoon of Christmas Eve, I was nauseated. I felt like I was going to faint.

            We barely made it up the front steps when the front door opened. I expected Chris to be at the door, but instead it was Stella. She grinned at me, a big green taffeta bow in her blond hair, and waved. Dodger stood beside her, watching as Sebastian and I lugged our presents up and into the house.

            The scent wafting through the house made my mouth water. I could pick out ham, sweet potatoes, and the heavenly aroma of baking pie. I let out a little groan. “Sweet _Zeu_ , it smells wonderful in here.”

            Chris’ mother came from the kitchen, a big smile on her face when she saw us. “Good gracious, what have you two brought presents for? You didn’t have to!”

            I smiled. “It’s no trouble. Honestly.”

            “Is that Tati?” From upstairs, I heard the sound of Chris’ voice. Overhead, the floor rumbled with the thump of his footsteps. By the excitement he displayed, it seemed he was a teenager rather than a thirty-five year old man. He appeared at the top of the stairs with Miles hanging around his neck.

            My heart somersaulted, pushed my stomach out of the way, and landed somewhere near my knees. He smiled broadly, his perfect teeth flashing behind his beard. Miles waved over Chris’ shoulder. I waved back, grinning.”

            I tilted my face to meet his mouth in a kiss when he came closer. “ _Crǎciun fericit!_ ” I whispered against his mouth.

            Chris smiled, noticing for the first time all of the presents stacked in my arms. “Tatiana, you didn’t have to bring gifts!”

            “I wanted to,” I protested. “I even brought something for Dodger.”

            “He’s already in love with you. You don’t have to bribe him.”

            Before I could say anything, Chris reached out to take the gifts. He led the way to the living room where a fat fir tree stood in the corner, decorated with colored lights and glass baubles and handmade ornaments. Chris sat the presents beneath the tree.

            I glanced at him bashfully. “I didn’t get anything for your sisters or your brother. I didn’t know what to get…”

            He kissed my forehead. “It doesn’t matter. You’re here. It’s the thought that counts.”

            I offered to help Chris’ mom finish dinner, but she wouldn’t hear of it. His sisters had already set the table. His brother was slicing pieces of ham while his father carried things in and out of the kitchen. Chris brought me into the dining room and picked a pair of seats for us. He wrapped his fingers around mine and draw my hand up to his lips.

            It had been almost a week since we’d slept together, and I felt his eyes roam over my body as if he was remembering what I looked like naked. I could see the edge of the tattoo on his chest beneath the collar of his shirt and ached to touch it. The sleeves of his dark blue shirt were pushed up toward his elbows, the top three buttons undone. His hair was a little tousled. He wore jeans instead of slacks. He’d been running around upstairs with Miles in just his socks.

            Something caught my eye, and I noticed a thin silver chain around his neck. A pendant hung beneath his shirt, barely visible. Before I knew it, my fingers lifted and pulled the pendant into view. It was a small gold charm with a raised figure on the surface. It was a man in robes, a staff in his right hand, a child sitting on his upraised left hand. I recognized it.

            “Saint Christopher,” I murmured, running my thumb over the charm. Years of Catholic school and catechism rushed back. “Patron saint of travelers.”

            Just then, Chris’ mom came through with the last dish. She saw me looking at his necklace and smiled questioningly. “Are you Catholic?”

            “My parents raised me in the Church. I’m afraid I’m not a very good Catholic.” I felt a blush rush into my face. I didn’t want to disappoint this woman I wanted to impress so much.

            “Well, no one is a good Catholic. A good person trying to be better…” She smiled at her son, looking at the two of us with our hands entwined. “I think the Good Lord can work with that.”

            A sense of belonging settled in my chest. The rest of the family gathered around the table. Food was passed around. It was all so wonderful, so full of joy and calm and love. I watched Chris fill his plate, grinned when he started putting food on mine. He gave me a little bit of everything along with a running commentary of why his mother’s Christmas dinner was the best thing in the world.

            We ate until we were stuffed. Chris wrapped his arm around my shoulder and groaned. “Ma, you have to stop cooking. I can’t deal with all this food.”

            Mrs. Evans looked at her son with a loving smile. “Maybe you shouldn’t try to eat everything in sight. Think about that?”

            Before the dishes were even cleared away, Stella and Miles started chanting for gifts. It seemed it was Evans family tradition to open some presents on Christmas Eve and leave some for Christmas morning. We moved into the living room, all of us finding seats around the tree. Chris sat in one of the arm chairs and pulled me into his lap. He kept one hand on my hip and the other on my knee.

            “Kids first,” Chris said as everyone sat down. Shanna and Carly sat beneath the tree and started sorting gifts into piles for everyone. I heard them calling names, surprised to hear that mine was mentioned a few times.

            I watched with contentment as the kids opened their presents. They showed their toys, their clothes. The two of them came over to hug me when they opened my gifts. Stella gave me a warm hug, grinning as she brought over her American Girl doll. Miles seemed to be pleased with his Lego robotics kit. Mrs. Evans held up one present and smiled.

            “Dodger,” she looks at Chris. “I think Dodger’s dad should open this one.”

            They passed the gift over to Chris, and he balanced it on my lap as he tore the paper. I smiled as Chris opened the box to reveal a rawhide bone and a thick rope toy. Laughing, Chris leaned forward and kissed my cheek.

            “Thank you,” he whispered. “I’m sure he’ll love it.”

            As the kids played, Chris’ mom started handing out presents to the rest of us. There were three under the tree for me. None of them were very big, but it didn’t matter to me. I didn’t care what was in them. It meant so much to me that they had thought enough of me to get me a gift. They barely knew me, but they had brought me into their family without hesitation.

            The gifts were passed my way. I settled the little boxes in my lap, waiting for everyone else to get theirs. A larger pile ended up by the chair for Chris, and I looked nervously at the one that I’d brought. I hoped he liked it.

            “Go ahead,” Mrs. Evans said, waving for us all to indulge in our inner child.

            “Ladies first,” Chris said, watching me with an expectant smile. I felt the butterflies in my stomach flutter to life.

            I picked up one of the boxes, noticed his mother and father’s names on the tag. Tears burned my eyes. I carefully opened the silver paper, trying to keep it in tact as much as possible. There was a Macy’s gift box inside. I let out a little gasp, knowing that they’d spent a lot of money on just this one gift.

            Resting in the white box was a necklace. The thin link chain was silver, and on it hung two circular pendants. One was small and copper toned with the word _be_ stamped into it in black. The other was large and silver with words such as _thankful_ , _happy_ and _free_ stamped into it in different fonts. When I closed the box, I noticed a little card taped on the top of the box. It was a plain white card with a single sentence written inside.

            _Thank you for making him happy_.

            I smiled, tears running down my cheeks. Glancing over my shoulder, I caught Mrs. Evans’ eye and whispered, “Thank you.”

            Chris rubbed my back, a gentle motion of his thumb along my spine. He leaned forward and kissed my shoulder through my shirt. “They love you, Tati.”

            I couldn’t do more than sniffle.

            He nudged the other two boxes at me, both of them with his name on them. The look on his face was bashful and uncertain. Smiling at him, I ripped into the teal paper. Inside was a black box with an outline of Mickey Mouse’s head. My grin got wider when I saw that it was a Disney-themed gift. We’d spent an afternoon marathoning some of our favorite films.

            When I pulled the top off the box, I saw a silver bangle bracelet with two charms. One of them was a silver rose. The other was a silver circular charm with _tale as old as time_ stamped in black. I sniffled and turned toward Chris with a surprised smile.

            “Open the other one before you say anything,” he said softly.

            I slipped the bracelet on and ripped the paper from the second gift. It was in the same kind of box. Inside was a silver necklace with a similar silver charm, along with glass beads in blue, and yellow, an open book, a heart and a rose. My heart swelled with love for the man who held me in his arms.

            “How did you get these so fast?”

            Chris grinned. “I have my ways.”

            He took the necklace from me and put it on me. He brushed my hair off my shoulder and kissed the curve of my neck. I smiled and cupped his cheeks in my palms, kissed his soft lips over and over again.

            “They’re beautiful. Thank you. Thank you.”

            He hugged me tightly for a moment. The happiness on his face made me feel as if I’d stepped into the brightest of sunlight.

            I picked up my gift from the pile by the chair and handed it to him. My fingers shook a little, nervousness making my stomach drop into my toes. Chris carefully pulled the paper from it and turned it over in his hands. He looked at it for a long moment before he grinned broadly.

            “I thought you might like it… since you want to learn Romanian.”

            Chris pulled me against his chest and kissed me soundly. “It’s wonderful.” He tucked the phrase book against his chest and nuzzled against my cheek. “Thank you.”

            “ _Crǎciun fericit_ , Chris,” I whispered.

            He cleared his throat, asked me to repeat it a few times. Then he beamed with pride and said, “ _Crǎciun fericit_ , Tatiana Dalca.”


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

 

            We spent Christmas Day with Chris’ family. It was leftovers and watching the Jim Carrey version of _The Grinch_ with Miles and Stella, wrapped up in flannel pajamas and blankets in the living room. Dodger had taken to his rope toy and carried it everywhere, often dropping it in Chris’ lap to get him to play tug.

            It was late when Sebastian and I got back to the hotel. I was so exhausted that I fell into the bed and didn’t wake up until ten the next morning.

           

            Two days before New Year’s Eve, a package showed up at my hotel room. It was a large box with a silver bow on top. There was a card attached to the top, scrawled in Chris’ handwriting. I grinned when I read it.

            _Supplies for New Year’s Eve. We’re going to First Night. –Chris_

            I had no idea what First Night was, so I did a quick search on my phone. It turned out to be a celebration in downtown Boston that lasted from noon to midnight on New Year’s Eve. It looked like there were dozens of things to do—ice sculptures, a parade, a skating pond, and a fireworks display over the harbor.

            Popping the top off the box, I found a pair of brand new ice skates. There were gloves and earmuffs, too. I smiled when I pulled everything from the box. The skates were blue with white glittering snowflakes on the sides. The gloves and earmuffs were a matching set, teal and purple stripes.

            My heart turned over in my chest at the thought of Chris picking these things out for me. It was so sweet of him to think of just these little things. The bracelet on my wrist jingled, reminding me of the care he had taken in picking my Christmas gifts as well.

            I put everything back in the box and sat it by my suitcase. Then I dialed Chris’ number.

            He answered on the third ring. “Hello, sweetheart,” he said, a smile in his voice.

            I curled up on the bed. “Something just arrived at my hotel room.”

            Chris laughed, that gentle chuckle that sent shivers through my whole body. “Ah,” he replied. His voice went slightly hesitant. “Did you like it?”

            I marveled at how he worried so much about what I thought of his gifts. My eyes fell on the box across the room, and I made sure to smile when I answered. “It was wonderful. I’ve never been ice skating before.”

            “You’ll enjoy it. First Night is always a lot of fun. The rest of the family is coming if that’s okay.” He sounded hesitant.

            “That’s amazing. Wonderful.” I took a deep breath, looking up at the ceiling and smiling softly. “Your family has been so kind to me, Chris. They’ve treated me like I’m one of them from the first day I met them. That… that means the world to me.”

            It was silent on the other end of the phone for a long moment. When Chris spoke again, his voice was gentle. It washed over me, giving me a sense of peace that I had begun to feel more often with Chris around.

            “You _are_ part of the family, Tati.” He sounded so incredibly certain, so rock-solid and sure of the fact. “They love you. Almost as much as I do.”

            My heart skipped a beat and kicked into overdrive. I let my mind fast forward, filling itself with fantasies of a permanent move to the States, a house in Boston near his family, learning recipes from his mother, watching Stella and Miles grow up, playing with Dodger in a backyard. It wasn’t the first time I’d thought about that kind of future with Chris, but it was the first time I could see a possibility of it coming true.

            “I’ll pick you up at six on Saturday. Dress warm.”

 

            Saturday afternoon, I called home, spoke to my _bunicǎ._ She had stayed awake to see the New Year, to talk to Sebastian and me. She sounded so tired and so far away. While I had thought more in the last few days about making a permanent move to the US, hearing my _bunicǎ’s_ voice was enough to make me question my plans. I hadn’t made a final decision yet, but I knew that it was going to be difficult to fly back to Constanta in a few days.

            Sebastian waited in my hotel room. He had been invited to go to First Night with us, but he wasn’t feeling well. He had planned on staying behind and watching the countdown on television if he even stayed up long enough. When he saw the gifts from Chris, he smiled and took my hand.

            “Little Dalca, we need to talk,” he said softly in Romanian. I loved hearing him speak our native language, but sometimes it worried me when he had that tone.

            I felt my stomach drop to my toes. “About what?”

            He leaned forward and brushed a stray lock of hair behind my ear. It wasn’t like my cousin to be serious, but the expression that settled on his face made me cringe. I started thinking of everything that could have gone wrong. Had someone in the family been injured? Hurt? Was he sick? What had happened to make my cousin so… sedate?

            “Chris.”

            My chest suddenly felt empty. Like my heart and lungs had been torn out. I couldn’t breathe, and lights popped in my vision. I immediately expected the worst. Panic welled up in me. I felt it claw its way up my throat, into my blood and settle in my guts. My fingers trembled. _Zeu_ , I was going to vomit.

            Sebastian took my hands and squeezed them tightly. “Chris might… ask you something tonight. I don’t know for sure. But if he does, please… say no.”

            For a moment, I couldn’t comprehend what he said. When the words began to sink in, I thought I had heard him wrong. Surely Chris wouldn’t be thinking of… _that_ so quickly. It was one thing to fantasize about _that_ , but it was another for it to be such a real possibility—so quickly.

            “Why do you think he’ll ask?” My mouth was dry. It was hard to speak.

            My cousin sighed. He bit his lip, trying to figure out what to say, or maybe how much to say. I didn’t think that Sebastian would ruin something like this for me. I couldn’t understand why he would tell me to say no if Chris asked me… _that_.

            “I overheard something at his house on Christmas.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I heard him ask his mom for his grandmother’s ring.”

            I could have sworn, in that moment, that the entirety of my body stilled. My breath stopped, my heart quit beating, my blood froze in my veins. I closed my eyes, trying to fight away the panic that quickly threatened to overtake me. I tried to get a breath, but my lungs refused to work. Tears burned in my eyes. I wanted to be with Chris, I knew that I wanted to go to sleep beside him every night and wake up with him every morning. But I also knew that I wasn’t ready.

            I wasn’t ready and I didn’t know if I was going to go back to Constanta and I knew that it was too soon and I didn’t want to hurt Chris but I wasn’t ready.

            I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready.

            Sebastian squeezed my hands again, seeing the panic that rose on my face. “I might be wrong, Tatiana. Chris isn’t rash. He doesn’t rush into things. But I just wanted you to know. To be prepared.”

            It was hard to move. I had a hard time telling my body what to do. At last, I nodded at him. “What do I do, Sebastian? What do I do if he asks?”

            He brushed his fingers along my cheek. “Tell him the truth. If he loves you enough that he wants to marry you today, then he loves you enough to wait until you’re ready.”

            Before I can answer, there was a knock on the door. When I looked at the clock, I realized it was time for Chris to pick me up. Sebastian went to get the door while I tried to get myself together. I didn’t want to ruin whatever fun Chris had planned by wallowing in panic. I heard them whispering around the corner, but I didn’t have it in me to try to make sense of what they were saying.

            Chris appeared, dressed in jeans and boots with a red long sleeved shirt and a coat. He smiled, the shadow of his ball cap masking some of the concern in his eyes. I tried to smile back as I stood to meet him.

            He drew me against him with gentle hands. He tipped my head up, kissed me tenderly. “Are you alright?” he whispered.

            I didn’t know how to say what I felt. I didn’t want to tell him that I was afraid. But I had learned a few things about Chris Evans in the last month. And one of those things was that he was incredibly emotionally perceptive.

            At first, I wanted to say it was nothing. I wanted to act as if I was fine. But I knew that Chris deserved more than that from me. I sighed.

            “Just… panic. I panicked.”

            I felt his nose brush against my forehead. His sighing breath warmed my face. “Tati, it’s alright. I promise it's going to be okay.”

            He took a careful step away and reached up to his collar. I watched as he pulled the chain of his Saint Christopher medallion up over his head. He held it out in front of me with one hand, reaching for my chin with the other.

            “Look at me, Tatiana Dalca,” he said softly. When my eyes met his, he gave me a small smile. “No matter what happens or where you go or where I go, I love you with all my heart. I’m not leaving you until you ask me to.”

            He slipped the chain over my head and tucked the medallion beneath the collar of my shirt. I felt it warm against my skin. He blushed and ran his fingers over my cheek.

            “Do you still want to go to First Night?”

            I took a deep breath and nodded. “Yes.”

            “Good, then grab your skates.” He squeezed my hand and kissed my hair softly before he let me go to get my things for the night’s events.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

 

            I had every intention of carrying my skates in the box he’d sent, but Chris wouldn’t hear of it. Once he made sure the blade guards were on, he tied the laces together and slung them over his shoulder. I winced, slightly afraid he was going to slice himself open. On the way down to the street, he told me we were taking the city metro since parking would be a mad house near the city center.

            The metro was surprisingly calm when we got on and found a pair of seats near the back of the car. A few people clearly recognized Chris, and one girl came over to ask for a picture. I smiled and nodded when she asked if I could take the picture with her phone. Chris was so kind to her and incredibly gracious when she asked for an autograph too. He waited for her to dig out some paper and something to write with. He ended up signing the back of an envelope that she held to her chest when she walked away.

            When he came back to our seats, he put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close to his side. Our skates were on the floor by his feet. I couldn’t help but smile against his shoulder as we rumbled along toward Boston Commons.

            “Are we meeting your family?” I asked quietly, running my fingers over the Saint Christopher medal I now wore around my neck.

            Chris hummed in acknowledgement. “They’re meeting us at Frog Pond. They had to go get Miles’ skates sharpened.”

            A smile worked its way onto my face. The thought of seeing Miles and Stella, along with all of Chris’ other family… it made me happy. It made me feel like I was still at home.

            The ride to Boston Commons didn’t take as long as I expected. When we arrived, Chris took my hand and led me out into the park. It was a beautiful greenspace—a combination of grassy knolls, trees, concrete walkways, fountains, and statues. Along one of the major avenues, metal barriers blocked off a row of ice sculptures. The sun glinted off the ice, making it look so incredibly bright.

            Chris reached into his coat pocket and handed me a pair of sunglasses. “I forgot to tell you, you’ll need these until the sun starts to go down.”

            I slipped on the sunglasses and realized that it was so much easier to look at the ice sculptures and the snow covering the grass. As we wandered down the thoroughfare, I heard the sound of music and the _skish-skish_ of skates across ice. A group of kids were playing in a snow fort on _Tadpole Playground_. People were lined up to get into the skating rink on Frog Pond. Chris and I joined the queue at the back.

            “Are the kids meeting us here?”

            I had no more than asked the question when I heard the squealing sound of Stella’s voice. “Unca Chris!”

            My heart lifted as I watched Chris drop the skates he carried and hold out his arms for his niece. Stella ran at him, smacking into his big arms and letting him lift her up. He settled her against his mighty forearm and smiled, flashing his perfect smile. “Where are your skates, Stella Ella?”

            She giggled. “Mommy has them. Over there!” Stella pointed over her shoulder. True enough, her mother and brothers were coming down the sidewalk toward us. Mrs. Evans was right behind them, a big smile on her face.

            When they arrived, there were hugs all around. I warmed at the strong hug Mrs. Evans gave me. It made me feel like I was a true part of her family.

            We chatted while we waited, taking little baby steps up as we got closer to the skating rink. From the looks of the ice, it was going to be difficult to do much skating if they kept letting people onto the ice without anyone leaving. The closer we got, the more I started to worry we weren’t even going to be able to get a chance.

            “Don’t worry,” Mrs. Evans said as she wrangled Miles back into the line. “There’s only one hour slots on the ice. A good chunk of people will be leaving soon.”

            Sure enough, the closer we got to the ice, the more people started to leave. Volunteers came down the line, letting us know that we would be in the next group allowed on the ice. Mrs. Evans, Carly, and Shanna helped the kids get their skates on, reminding them to keep the blade guards on until it was time to get on the ice. Chris balanced on the wall around the pond to put on his own skates.

            “Need help?” he asked. Anxiety started working its way up my spine. I’d never been ice skating before. I was going to make a fool of myself.

            “Don’t film this,” I said firmly as he crouched in front of me, helping me put on my skates. I held on to the wall for dear life, afraid I was already going to fall flat on my face.

            Chris chuckled as he stood up. “Why not? Why can’t I remember the first time we went ice skating together?”

            I slapped him in the chest. “Because I’m going to fall. Stella is going to show me up out there.”

            Stella reached up and took my hand just as the volunteers called our group forward. I felt like a fool using a little girl as my balance, but she just walked forward with determination. Like she’d been walking on skates for her entire life. Chris walked just behind me, his hand pressed against the small of my back. Just before we made it to the ice, Mrs. Evans reminded us to take the blade guards off. She wasn’t going skating, so she would keep up with them.

            I watched Stella go onto the ice first, holding Shanna’s hand as the two of them took off in little gliding steps toward the center of the pond. Miles went next, hand-in-hand with Carly, skating smoothly clockwise around the edge of the ice. Chris reached for my hand, grinning.

            “Are you ready?”

            I swallowed hard and mentally prepared myself for landing on my rear end multiple times. I looked up at Chris, taking in the excitement on his face. Rolling my eyes, I squeezed his hand. “As I’ll ever be. Just don’t laugh at me when I fall, okay?”

            Chris nodded and kissed my gloved hand as he stepped out onto the ice. He moved slowly, his hand gripping tightly around mine as he pulled me behind him. “One step at a time, Tati. I’m right here.”

            He stayed close, a tight hold on my hand as I gave little slips forward, trying to move. My ankles rolled out. I nearly fell straight down. I screamed and reached both hands out for Chris. My head spun. The ice nearly raced up to meet me.

            “I can’t do this! Take me back!”

            Chris put one arm around me, settling his hand on my elbow, helping to keep me on my feet. His presence, his strength, his surety—it kept me from breaking down into a complete panic in front of all those people on the ice. He took slow, sweeping strokes with his skates, using his motion to guide me along. I closed my eyes, feeling sick.

            The _skish-skish_ of blades over ice soothed some of my panic. So did having Chris’ arm around me. He talked to me soothingly, quietly as he guided me around the ice.

            “Open your eyes, Tati,” he said softly.

            I felt his fingers wrap around mine, his body shift position to give me more freedom. The sunlight streamed into my eyes, and I blinked. My heart skipped into my chest when I realized I was practically skating by myself. Chris was barely holding me up. Instead, he guided me with gentle fingers and calming words.

            “You’re doing wonderfully,” Chris beamed. “Enjoy it.”

            Despite my fear, I giggled out loud. “I’m doing it!”

            Stella and Shanna passed us. Stella squealed and waved. “Tati’s skating!”

            Instinctively, I took my hand from Chris’ grip to wave back. In a moment, I wobbled, my ankles rolling and my body pitching forward. I flailed, windmilling my arms to try to stay upright. As I went down, I clutched at Chris’ arm, trying to keep myself from hitting the ice harder than necessary.

            I landed on my right hip. The impact jarred my whole body, and I let out an audible _oof_. Flecks of ice sprayed on my face as people skated by, swerving to avoid hitting me. My lips pressed together, holding back a curse and stifling tears.

            Chris stopped in front of me. “Are you alright?” He crouched down and held his hands out to me to help pull me up again. I saw the laughter playing around the corners of his mouth and frowned.

            “Don’t you dare laugh at me, Christopher,” I spat as I grabbed his hands to pull myself up. Pain sliced through my hip, and I felt throbbing begin in my ankle.

            “I’m not, I promise.” He tensed his arms, giving me something to pull against. When I was finally on my feet, he looked me over with concern in his eyes. “Seriously. Are you hurt?”

            I shook my head and tried to skate forward. My ankle gave out beneath me, and if Chris hadn’t been there, I would have hit the ice again. I let out a whimper. A stab of discomfort went from my ankle all the way up into my hip and back down again.

            “You are most definitely _not_ okay,” he stated firmly. He scooped me into his arms and started skating back toward the wall. “Keep your feet tucked.”

            Mrs. Evans met us at the wall. She slipped the blade covers on my skates and helped Chris guide me over to the other side. Looking over his shoulder, Chris checked to see if anyone was watching. When he was sure they weren’t, he hopped over the wall himself and immediately started unlacing my skates.

            I squealed in pain when he pressed his fingertips into the flesh around my ankle. He hissed through his teeth and looked up at me. Even behind his sunglasses, I could see the concern dancing in his eyes.

            “Sprained, I think. Come on, Tatiana, we’re going to the first aid tent.”


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

 

            Chris carried me to the first aid tent on the center of the commons. I couldn’t help but laugh at how stupid this whole thing was.

            “This is a horrible date, isn’t it?” I chuckled.

            “It’s a wonderful date,” he responded, a small grin spreading over his face. “I get to play knight in shining armor. Every guy’s dream.”

            Mrs. Evans stayed behind at Frog Pond, waiting on the others. I put my arms around Chris’ neck, letting him carry me just like the knight he was pretending to be. A dull throbbing drew my attention to my ankle, then up through the outer part of my leg and into my hip. The moment I focused on it, the stronger the discomfort and pain became. I whimpered softly and burrowed against Chris’ chest.

            In the first aid tent, Chris sat me on a little folding table that looked a lot like one a masseuse would use. He tugged my skates off while we waited for a volunteer to come through. As soon as the skate was off my injured foot, I let out a sigh of relief. The pain lessened a little, although my ankle throbbed a little more freely. Chris let out a low whistle.

            “It’s already swelling,” Chris mumbled. His fingers were cold but gentle as he slowly slipped my socks down past my heels.

            A volunteer came by. He was a handsome brunette, clean-shaven and close to my age I guessed. “What seems to be the problem?”

            Before I could open my mouth, Chris began telling the volunteer how I’d twisted my ankle on the ice. He explained how it was my first time skating, showed him how my ankle had rolled out and pointed out that I’d landed hard on my hip. The volunteer nodded and smiled as he pulled a low stool over so he could sit between my feet. He pressed his fingertips gently to my uninjured ankle, then over to the injured one.

            I winced and jumped. Chris swore under his breath. He came around behind me, put his hands on my shoulders and squeezed gently. I knew he was trying to distract me, and I was grateful for it. The volunteer pushed in places that were so painful that I wanted to cry. He moved back and forth from my injured to uninjured ankle and back again.

            “It’s definitely sprained, and it will stay swollen for a few days to a week,” he said as he pulled an Ace bandage from a kit and carefully wrapped my ankle. “You’ll need to elevate it and ice it a few times a day, ten minutes on, twenty minutes off.”

            I nodded, just trying to remember everything that he said. The pressure on my ankle increased as he tightened the Ace bandage against the swelling. Tears welled in my eyes, and I had a hard time catching my breath. Chris leaned over and pressed a kiss to my temple.

            “Don’t put any weight on it,” the volunteer continued as he finished wrapping my ankle. He handed me a two round brown pills to help relieve my pain. “Unfortunately, we aren’t supplied to give you crutches or anything. You’ll want to visit your primary care for that.”

            I wanted to fall over when I thought about visiting an American doctor. It would cost more than I had with me just to go in, have them see my ankle and say the same thing this volunteer had already told me, then just give me a pair of crutches. My mind cast out, trying to find a way to avoid it.

            Chris squeezed my shoulders again. “We’ll take care of it,” he murmured.

            All I could do was nod. The volunteer checked the bandage and gave me some water to take the pills. When he was sure that I was as taken care of as I could be, the volunteer moved away to another woman who had just come in. Chris came around, picked up my skates and tied the laces together. He made sure the blade covers were securely in place before he put them over his shoulder and reached out to lift me into his arms again.

            “Are you going to carry me for the rest of the day?” The words were out before I realized that the day had been cut short. “I’m sorry! I’ve ruined the whole thing for you!”

            He shook his head as he pulled me up against his chest. “No, Tati—”

            “I’ll take a cab back to the hotel so you can stay with your family. You have to,” I continued, rambling in my desire not to ruin the entire holiday out with his family.

            Chris let me ramble, rolled his eyes when I made such a fuss about being carried out of the first aid tent and back toward Frog Pond. “If you’d like to go back to the hotel to rest, I’ll gladly take you. Especially since you can’t walk, Tati. But if you feel up to it, we can still stay for the fireworks at midnight.”

            His honesty struck me enough to shut me up. I looked up at him with a quizzical expression. “Are you _seriously_ going to carry me the whole day?”

            He chuckled and kissed my forehead. “Gladly.”

 

            And carry me he did. Stella thought it was incredibly funny that I didn’t have a shoe on one foot and couldn’t go anywhere without her uncle carrying me—as she called it—princess style. I kept arguing, trying to get him to carry me on his back, but he wouldn’t hear of it. Not until I told him that I was uncomfortable and princess style hurt my back.

            We walked around the Commons while we waited for the fireworks at midnight. Shanna and Carly took the kids to see the ice sculptures—including one of Captain America—and then the evening parade of lights. Mrs. Evans and the others stayed long enough to see the parade before they left to catch the metro back to their car. Chris put me down long enough to give hugs around to his sisters, niece, and nephew. Then it was back up to be piggy-backed as we made our way to the ferry.

            “Where are we going?” I asked as he carried me toward a line of people waiting by the pier.

            Chris pointed over the harbor toward a small island, a castle-like fortress on the peak of it. An American flag fluttered from a flag pole at the top of the fortress. Canons stood on parapets pointing out toward the sea. There were rolling greens that marched from the fortress down toward a gravel and concrete path around the island.

            Chris smiled. “It’s the best place for First Night fireworks. Sucks on the fourth, but First Night… Can’t get a better place.”

            We moved toward the front of the line as people piled onto one of the ferries. I put my cheek to Chris’ and sighed. “Do you think we’ll get a spot?”

            He nodded. “There’s a lot of space over there. And to be honest, the best place is to watch is from the top of the fort.”

            We made it to the ferry, and Chris sat me on a little bench by the railing so I could rest. He leaned against the rail beside me, smiling. “Are you having a good time?”

            Grinning, I wiggled my toes. “Aside from the sprained ankle? Absolutely.”

            The wind was cold as we took the short trip across the harbor toward Castle Island. The sky slowly went dark, the velvet midnight blueness cast through with stars that glittered like diamonds. I smiled and closed my eyes, letting the wind rush through my hair. Chris stood by my side, just letting me enjoy the night. I couldn’t believe how much my life had changed in a few short weeks. It felt like a dream, and I knew that I didn’t want to wake up from it.

           

            As midnight rolled around, music blared over the harbor from the Commons. Chris held me in his arms as we watched the first rocket scream into the sky. Blue and green sparks swirled against the black night, followed by white, silver, red, gold, yellow, orange, and purple. They glittered so brightly that they blocked out the stars. The water reflected the show, making it bigger and more beautiful.

            Chris pulled me against him as midnight struck. His arms slipped around me, his mouth settled over mine in a possessive kiss.

            First Night rolled over into First Day, and I spent the first moments of the New Year in the arms of the man I loved.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

 

            I stood on the sidewalk outside my terminal at Logan International Airport, my luggage sitting all around me. Sebastian pulled the last of my bags from the car trunk and sat it at my feet with a grunt. I did a quick count of everything that was around me, making sure that I had all of my bags, my purse, my phone. Once I was sure that I had everything, I turned toward the check in stand on my crutches, wanting to go ahead and get my bags checked and taken care of.

            “Thank you, Seb,” I said with a smile. I was looking at a flight that would take me over 24 hours, and I was tired. Plus, Chris wasn’t there. It hurt that he hadn’t come to the airport with me. “I wouldn’t have minded taking a taxi.”

            My cousin smiled and shook his head. “I’m not letting you go to the airport without me. Besides, I’ve got a few things I want you to give to _bunicǎ_.”

            Neither of us mentioned the proverbial elephant in the room. While Chris and I had gotten close in the past month and a half, while we had fun at First Night, it seemed like he wasn’t very good at saying goodbye. My fingers brushed the necklace I wore, his St. Christopher medallion. I had the sudden urge to remove it, give it to my cousin and ask that he give it back to Chris.

            Sebastian seemed to sense my melancholy. He hugged me close, slipping into quiet Romanian. “Don’t give up on him.”

            I smiled sadly, not knowing what to say. My heart felt as if it was slipping down through my chest and into my toes. I was going to vomit. I knew it. The last month and a half had been some of the best days of my life, but I was starting to wonder if I’d overthought it, if I’d made a mistake.

            “He isn’t here,” I whispered back, watching Sebastian take my bags to the check in booth. I handed my boarding pass over as they started weighing my luggage. “He didn’t even call.”

            Frustration passed over Sebastian’s face, and I wondered if he knew why Chris wasn’t there. My eyes burned, my heart ached. I kept my head down as I handed over my credit card to pay for checking my luggage. My fingers brushed over the medallion around my neck, and I sent up a silent prayer—even though I wasn’t so much of a good Catholic. I wanted to get home safe, start my life over again.

            “Little Dalca, he hasn’t abandoned you,” Sebastian said as he came to stand next to me. I felt his hand on my lower back. Part of me wanted to just sink into my cousin and cry. The rest of me wanted to be angry. “Trust me, please.”

            They finished taking my luggage and I picked up my purse and carryon, strapping both of them over my chest. I shrugged off Sebastian’s hand and headed toward the door of the terminal, boarding pass tucked into my pocket. It was difficult to make my way into the terminal with my crutches. My eyes burned with tears as I thought of being on Frog Pond, my ankle twisting as Chris took me ice skating for the first time. My cousin chased after me, catching me by the arm at the door. His voice was gruff as he switched back into English.

            “Don’t leave without talking to him, Tatiana. I’m sure there’s a reason why he isn’t here.”

            I shook my head and pulled my arm from his grasp. “There certainly is,” I murmured, tears burning as they rushed down my cheeks. “It was a fling. Nothing more.”

            I pulled Sebastian into a tight hug, not knowing when I would see him again. My cousin was the closest thing to a brother I’d ever had. I was going to miss him more than I was willing to admit.

            Sebastian kissed the top of my head. “Little Dalca… I just want you to be happy. You know that, don’t you?”

            “I know.” I gave him one final squeeze and sighed a little. “It’s going to take me forever to get to the gate. I’d better get moving.”

            My cousin stood on the sidewalk while I walked through the sliding doors and into the terminal. The crutches were unwieldy and uncomfortable. It was made even worse by the fact that I was desperately trying to hold back tears. I didn’t want to fall over, hurt myself even more—especially since I was on my own now.

            I found a seat next to the gate and dumped my crutches in the seat next to me along with my purse and carryon. I wasn’t looking forward to the flight, but I was anxious to get it underway. The longer I sat in Boston, the worse it would get. Chris wasn’t coming, he wasn’t going to come rushing into the airport like they do in films. It was so hard to swallow, I’ll admit, but it was just easier if I did. Holding on to something that was never going to happen was just stupid ad prolonged the pain.

            About half an hour before boarding, my phone rang in my purse. I dug it out and nearly choked when I saw Chris’ name on the screen. My hands shook. I didn’t know if I wanted to answer, if I wanted to hear his excuses. But I didn’t know if I wanted to go home to Romania without finding out why he didn’t want to say goodbye.

            “Hello?” I tried to keep my voice calm. I didn’t want to cry on the phone with him.

            “Tati, listen, I’m so sorry.” He sounded distraught, almost to the point where it made my heart ache. The sound of his voice made me want to comfort him.

            I shrugged, even though I knew he couldn’t see me. “It’s fine, Chris. Honestly.”

            “No, it isn’t. I should be there.” I could hear the sound of him rustling around. Dodger barked in the background. I thought I caught his sisters shouting at him.

            “Chris…” I started to speak, then found I couldn’t figure out the words I needed. I closed my eyes, sighed, tried again. “Chris, I understand. This… whatever it was… it was fun. But we both knew it wasn’t going to be easy—not with you here and me in Romania. Maybe this is best. Before things get complicated.”

            Silence roared on the other end of the line. “Tatiana… I didn’t… how can you think…” I heard the sound of his breathing. For a moment, I could have sworn I could hear the beating of his heart. “Stella was sick all night. I stayed up with her so my sister could get some sleep.”

            My heart dropped into my toes. I thought I was going to be sick right there in the airport. Guilt gnawed at my insides so much that I couldn’t ask the question I really wanted to ask. “Is she alright?”

            “Better. She’s stopped throwing up.” He sighed heavily. “Tatiana, I fell asleep. Just woke up fifteen minutes ago. I… I don’t regret one second of what’s happened between us. Do you?”

            “No.” The word was so quiet I didn’t hear it myself.

            “Do you want this to be over? This thing between us?”

            “No.” Louder this time.

            It was like I could feel the relief from Chris on the other end. “Good. Tati, I’m so sorry I didn’t make it. You don’t know how much I wanted to be. I just wanted to hold you one more time before you left.”

            I felt warmth, that kind of perfect heat that I always felt with Chris, spread through my limbs. I wanted to let go of this fear that I had inside me, this fear that I wasn’t good enough for him, that the distance between us would turn out to be more than we could manage. But it was so difficult to know that I would have to watch the way his life played out from a distance, never knowing when I would see him the next time.

            Chris sighed on the other end of the line. I wished I could feel his breath against my cheek, just one more time. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

            Tears prickled in my eyes. “I’ll call when I land in Turkey. And again when I get home.”

            “Be safe. Please.” He paused, breathed deeply. “I love you, Tatiana Dalca.”

            I smiled through my tears, feeling my nose start to run. “I love you, too, Chris.”


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

 

            Constanta had a dusting of white when I finally arrived back home. The taxi from the airport dropped me off in front of my apartment building and sped off almost as soon as I pulled my last bag from the trunk. I stood there on the slippery sidewalk with my crutches and at least half a dozen bags around me with no way to get them up the stairs to my apartment. For a moment, I just wanted to cry.

            “You’ve been gone a long time,” said a voice from my left. The words were in the heavily accented English of my neighbor, Gregor Markovics. Gregor smiled at me, waving his mittened hand. “What have you got here?”

            I grinned and gestured to the bags with one of my crutches. “Gifts from Sebastian mostly. And a few things for myself.”

            Gregor picked up the bags, hooking and draping them over his arms and shoulders until he looked like he was going on a hiking trip. Then he led the way to the door of the building. It took almost ten minutes for us to get inside and up to my apartment, but I was grateful for every bit of Gregor’s help when I finally settled in on my own bed.

            The apartment smelled stuffy after two and half months of being empty. Sure, Gregor had come and opened the windows every now and then to air the place out, but it still smelled… stale. I sprayed a spritz of my perfume in the air, hoping it would diffuse through the room to brighten it up a little.

            Before I started getting too comfortable, I pulled out my phone and dialed Chris’ number. It was just after 11 for me, which meant it was 4 in the morning in Boston. For a moment, I thought about just waiting until it was a decent hour back in the US before I called. But I knew that if I waited, Chris would start to worry. And that was certainly something I didn’t think I wanted to deal with—particularly not from the other side of the world.

            The phone rang five times before someone picked up. Chris’ voice was gruff with sleep when he answered. “Huh?”

            I smiled and leaned back against the pillows in my bed. I wanted to close my eyes and sleep, but I wanted to get my body back on Romanian time as quickly as possible. “I’m home,” I said slowly, waiting for the words to dig their way into his sleep-addled brain.

            He grumbled, and I heard the blankets rustling. The line went quiet for a long moment before he spoke again, this time sounding a little more alert. “Everything okay?”

            My eyes wanted to drift closed. I wanted to fall asleep listening to the sound of his voice. I forced myself to sit up to avoid succumbing to sleep so early in the day. “Apartment smells musty, but I’m safe and sound.”

            Chris made a humming noise. “I miss you.”

            A rush of warmth spread through my limbs. “I miss you, too.”

            On his end of the line, a door opened and closed. Something crackled in the line, sounding like wind. _Zeu_ , I thought, _is he outside at four in the morning?_

            “When are you coming back?” he blurted out.

            “Chris…” All I could think of was how much I wanted to be back in Boston, even though there was so much I had left in Constanta that I wasn’t ready to give up. It was something that needed to be said, but I didn’t know how to start. Or even how to explain it properly after I’d started.

            He shushed me, almost as if he knew what I was going to say. “I know it’ll be hard, Tati. Whatever this is between us, it’s real. I know it is. And I know it isn’t going to be easy—going from here to there and back again. I don’t want to take your life away. I don’t know how else to convince you of it.”

            My heart hammered in my chest. I looked around my apartment, the place I had once felt most at home, most free. Now it felt as if there was something off about it. Like there was something missing. The place was quiet. I wondered what it would sound like with the rumble of Chris’ voice and the scrape of Dodger’s nails on the floor.

            “Chris, I think I need some time.” My heart thumped almost painfully, as if it was trying to jump completely out of my chest to keep me from saying anything else. I took a series of deep breaths. I let my mind settle on the words that I needed to say. “I’m not saying I want this to be over. Only that I need some time to get myself together, in order. I need to find myself here again. I’ve forgotten who I am.”

            I could picture the look on his face just then. It was four in the morning for him, and he was likely still at his mom’s house helping with Stella. This couldn’t have been easy for him to hear or to deal with. It wasn’t easy for me.

            “I love you. That much I know, Chris. I just…” My throat closed. I felt like I was choking on the words.

            “You need time,” he said softly. I hated that I was hurting him. That was the last thing I wanted to do. I loved him, didn’t doubt that for a single moment. But the rest of my life… I didn’t know where it was going or what it was anymore. It was as if the person I had been before I left for Boston was a stranger to me. I needed to find her again.

            “Yes,” I whispered, feeling my eyes burn with tears.

            Chris sighed. I sensed him gathering his composure. “I’ll be here waiting for you, Tati. If you’re asking me for time, that’s the least I can do for you.”

            I started crying in earnest just then. Chris was more than I could have ever thought to ask for in a boyfriend. We were thousands of miles apart and yet he didn’t waver. Given we’d only been so far apart for a day, but I was optimistic. Maybe we really could make it work.

            “Do you want me to call?” His voice was soft and unsure. It made my heart drop to my toes to realize that he didn’t know whether I wanted him in my life or not.

            “If you want.” Part of me wanted to give him an enthusiastic _yes_ , and part of me wanted to ask him to let me be the one to make calls. Maybe it was the coward’s way out, but I wanted to let someone else make that decision for me. If he wanted to call or text, then I wanted him to call. If he didn’t, then I would find a way to get by. Perhaps it was an unofficial test of his promise, to give me time, to not take away my life, to find a way to fit into it.

            In that moment, I wanted to crawl into his arms and sleep. I wanted Chris there with me, making me feel more at home. But I knew I had to do this on my own. I had to, or else I would always wonder if I was with Chris because I was afraid that I couldn’t be alone. With the distance between us, it might be a good thing.

            Chris went quiet on his end of the line for a moment. I was afraid that I’d already messed the whole of this up. That it would never be fixed.

            “I’m always here if you need me, Tati. And I’ll wait for you.” He paused. “Until you tell me it’s over.”

            It took all my willpower to actually go through with it just then. So much of me wanted to take it back, to just change my mind and tell Chris that I would leave Constanta and come to Boston, follow him all over the world if he wanted me to. But I didn’t. I sighed and nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. “I love you, Chris. Don’t forget that, okay?”

            And then it was over. I hung up, realizing that I was starting my life without Chris—half a world away.


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

 

            It took me about two days to get my body back on Romanian time. It was difficult to get through the apartment in my cast and crutches, but I did my best to get used to my life again. The place seemed at once too big and too small. I had grown so used to the hotels and Chris’ mom’s house that being in my apartment seemed small and close. And yet, it felt cavernous… too large and open after spending the last two months with the hulking figures of Sebastian and Chris around me almost constantly.

            A week after I returned to Constanta, I finally went back to work. The crutches made it almost impossible to navigate up and down the stairs of my apartment building and the metro system was more than annoying. The first day I arrived at work, it was a dull roar when I walked into the door.

            “ _Doamnǎ_ Dalca!” A dozen little voices filled the air and gasps of surprise followed as I lugged my heavy cast in.

            A thousand questions followed in Romanian and English, asking about my trip, what I brought them, what happened to my foot. I smiled gently and ushered the children surrounding me toward the circle mat in the center of the room. They gathered around me, sitting cross-legged, bouncing excitedly on their bottoms.

            “Here,” said Nicolo Lupei, my co-teacher, as he took my crutches and bags. He settled a chair behind me and helped me sit down. I gave him a grateful smile.

            A pair of tiny hands tugged on the hem of my pants. “ _Doamnǎ_ Dalca, will you tell us about America? Did you bring us any presents?”

            I smiled and brushed her curls back from her face. “Patience Nina, patience. First I have to know what you have all been doing while I was gone.”

            Nicolo sat down behind the circle of children and smiled at me from over their heads. He was a kind man, a few years younger than me, with wide brown eyes and a shock of jet black hair. We worked well together, the two of us able to corral the kids and deal with them well. His parents owned the daycare and were good to me. It wasn’t every boss who would just let you take a two month vacation and come back to the job as if you’d never left.

            “Let’s tell _Doamnǎ_ Dalca about our trip to the _muzeul_.”

            The children started talking all at once, about the coins and the statues and the artifacts. It took a moment to get them to calm down enough for me to hear each of them in turn. For a group of five year olds, they seemed to enjoy their trip.

            “Oh goodness,” I said dramatically. “I wish I’d been able to go with you! Did you behave for _DI._ Nicolo?”

            The children nodded vigorously, looking for everything like little cherubs. I laughed and let them all tell me their stories of the museum. When they had all told their tale, I gestured for Nicolo to bring me my bag. I unzipped the bag and began to pull tiny gifts wrapped in brown paper one after the other. Each one had a name written on the side.

            As I handed them out, I reminded them to keep their gifts in their laps until everyone had theirs. When I had given them all out, I let them open the packages. Nicolo’s brow furrowed as he held out a package wrapped in the same brown paper, a bright red bow stuck to the top.

            “What is this?” Nicolo asked as he handed the package to me.

            I felt my heart jump into my throat as I recognized the writing on the side. It was Chris’ unmistakable scrawl. The gift fell heavily into my palm as I took it from him. I held the gift against my chest, wanting to cry with some kind of relief and sadness and love. Chris was so far away, but it was almost as if he was right beside me.

            “A surprise from someone in America,” I whispered. My heart felt light and heavy all at once. “Hidden for just the right time.”

            I settled the gift in my lap and looked around at the children who were oohing and aahing over their little trinkets. They laughed at little statues and snow globes, stickers and tiny stuffed bears with I Heart New York t-shirts. These children, all of them with their bright eyes and ready smiles, were happy with little things that had cost me little more than two or three dollars each. It was amazing to see the smiles on their faces as they opened their gifts.

            “ _Doamnǎ_ Dalca, open your present!” said Nina, crawling up to me on her knees. Her eyes were the wide grey of a character out of a Disney film. She smiled at me, her hands clutching her Statue of Liberty teddy bear. “We’ve all had our presents. It’s your turn.”

            I felt twelve sets of eyes settle on me as I slipped my finger beneath the flap of the paper. The children giggled and chanted _grǎbește-te mai repede_ over and over.

            Nicolo watched with interest as I slipped the little package from the paper. The box was a plain white that probably came from a department store. When I pulled the lid off, a locket was settled inside against a black foam. It looked like a stained glass window. A moment of staring at it and then I realized what it was supposed to be. It was the rose and glass from _Beauty and the Beast_.

            Tears welled up in my eyes as I thought of Chris and his gifts from Christmas, the bracelet and necklace that were hidden at home in my jewelry box. I missed being with him, being with someone who loved me and who was so wonderful and kind.

            “It’s so pretty,” several of the girls cooed. Before long, they were dancing around the room and singing songs in Romanian and English.

            Nicolo picked up the discarded paper from around the room, making sure to put it in the bin to be reused later for art projects. There was something dark on his face as he gathered the children together and got them to the table for their morning snack. I was lost for a moment in thinking about what might be happening back in Boston. My phone felt heavy in my pocket. Almost a week had passed since I had heard from Chris. I wondered if I should call him to thank him for the gift.

            The rest of the first day back passed in a blur. It was partially miserable in trying to chase after the children with the cast and crutches. Surprisingly, the children were better behaved than I had seen them in a very long time. I put it up to the excitement of having me back after two months and then getting presents.

            At the end of the day, I waved goodbye to them as they were lead away from the classroom to the dining room. Soon they would have their baths and be tucked away into bed upstairs in the orphanage. I had forgotten how sad it made me when I remembered that they would be tucked into bed by workers and not by their parents.

            “Do you need help getting home?” Nicolo asked, his bag already strapped across his chest.

            I adjusted my bag and rested against my crutches. “I have to get used to the metro with this thing. I’ll be fine.”

            Before I could say another word, Nicolo stepped forward and pressed his hand against my cheek. He smiled a little sadly, his thumb stroking over my cheekbone as he looked down at me.

            “It’s good to have you back, Tatiana,” he whispered. Somehow, it seemed he had gotten taller since October. Even his voice sounded deeper. A shadow of a beard dusted his jaw. He leaned down, his head very close to mine. “The children… we’ve all been so sad without you.”

            My throat went dry. I found myself licking my lips nervously. I had almost forgotten how Nicolo and I had developed our own little family with the children we taught. My heart thudded harder—and not from nervousness. I wished I wasn’t on crutches so that I could get away from what I knew was coming.

            “I’ve missed you,” Nicolo said just before his lips met mine. I was too stunned to move. To think of Chris all the way in Boston, waiting for me to make up my mind.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

 

            Winter in Constanta is a strange thing. There were days when it was so cold that my bones ached. And then, just a few days later, out of the blue it would be warm enough that I didn’t need a jacket. The warmth from the Black Sea’s waters slipped over the city in little bursts, melting the snow only for it to freeze again over night. It was always a guessing game as to what I’d find outside the front door every day on my way to work.

            It was a misery those first few days back at the orphanage school. I avoided Nicolo as if he had the plague. Of course, that wasn’t easy since I had to work with him every single day. And I was on crutches, so it was difficult to do much in the classroom on my own. Begrudgingly, I accepted his assistance when it came to the students, but I as quick to pull away from him if he touched me for too long.

            At home, sitting in my apartment that seemed far too big and lonely, I wished for Boston. I wished for the constant cold and the sound of dog nails on hardwood and the deep laugh of Chris Evans. It was like being caught at the bottom of a well, seeing everything that could be and being entirely unable to reach it.

            My phone sat by my bedside, barely used and gathering dust.

            Chris hadn’t called in days.

           

            I sat on my bed, staring at my phone in my hands. It was something to screw up my courage to put in the number, to send the message. I didn’t think I could actually do it. Such a gulf had grown up between Chris and I that I was suddenly terrified that it would never be breached. I’d told him to call if he wanted, but he hadn’t.

            _Zeu,_ I lamented, _had he already decided it was over?_

            At last, I managed to get a number in the phone. On speaker, it rang and rang, the tone seeming to go on forever. Just when I expected the voicemail to kick in, a sleepy female voice picked up.

            My heart stopped, stomach turned over until I nearly heaved into the floor. A million sounds rambled through my brain, straining to coalesce into words that I could manage to speak, but it was to no avail. I was locked in a prison of shocked silence, one to which there would never be a key.

            “Hello?” the woman asked again, her voice becoming simultaneously more alert and more annoyed.

            From somewhere, muffled in the background, came his voice. It was gruff with sleep, the sound that I’d heard so clearly in his voice that morning in the New York hotel. “Who is it?”

            “No one,” the woman said just before she disconnected.

            I stared at the screen in my hand as Chris’ face faded away. I’d been gone for less than a month and someone else was already warming my spot in his bed. Tears burned in my eyes, slipped down my cheeks in trails of acid. I felt the bile claw its way up my throat as I curled on my side and let the darkness of heartbreak settle over me like a blanket.

            When the phone rang hardly a moment later, I somehow wasn’t surprised when Chris’ face appeared on the screen.

            I let it ring.

            And ring

            And ring…

 

            Life seemed to slip by in the weeks that followed. January started to bleed into February. The snow melted and froze and piled with snow and started all over again. The sun was warming. Six weeks after I came home, I could finally walk without the crutches and cast. My ankle was stiff, but at least it worked.

            My phone seemed to come to life in those days as winter started to fade. Chris called nearly every day in those weeks. My voicemail filled in a matter of days, the memory on my phone taken over by text messages that were never read. I couldn’t bring myself to face the fact that he and I were over. That it had taken him less than a month to bring someone into his bed even after he told me he loved me and he would wait for me.

            Nicolo noticed the change in my demeanor. He didn’t say much, and it was a relief when he kept his distance. He still hovered a little too close for comfort sometimes, but it was nice to have someone be attentive to me.

            And still my heart ached in a way that I knew it would never really heal.

 

            Sebastian’s face lit up on my phone. A stab of pain shot through my soul. Sebastian would always be my cousin, but he would also be the one link to Chris in my life that I couldn’t hide away. I loved him too much to never speak to him again.

            “ _Bunǎ ziua, vere_ ,” I said quietly. If he was anywhere near Chris, I wanted Sebastian to speak Romanian so he wouldn’t understand.

            For a moment, my cousin seemed caught off guard. Then he began speaking, the cadence of his voice lilting the Romanian in such a way that it calmed the ache in my chest.

            “Little Dalca,” he sighed in Romanian. “You haven’t been answering your phone for a month.”

            I opened my mouth to argue, but realized that he was right. “I haven’t had anything to say.”

            I could just picture Sebastian pacing back and forth wherever he was. “You’ve had us worried.”

            “No need to worry. I’m perfectly fine.”

            “You should let him explain…”

            “I don’t want to talk about him.”

            “Tati, it isn’t what you think…”

            “I said I don’t want to talk about him.”

            “Tatiana,...”

            I growled into the phone, practically shouting. “I don’t want to talk about him, Sebastian! He broke my fucking heart.”

            Silence roared through the connection. It was a living, breathing thing. Another entity that had moved into my life and taken residence, one that would never leave.

            “I’m staying in Constanta,” I said softly into the void. “I love you, Seb, I really do. But I won’t ever come back to America.”

            “Oh, Tatiana, if you’d just listen to me…” Sebastian sounded as if he were on the verge of pleading Chris’ case. I didn’t want to hear it.

            “Never, Seb. Never again.”

            I hung up. My feet carried me to the window that looked out over the street. In the distance, I could see the curve of the Black Sea on the edge of the city. Tears poured down my cheeks, a steel band of pain wrapped around my shattered heart in an attempt to pull it back together. I ached all over, the cold seeping into my bones and turning my soul into frost.

            _Va veni primǎvara. Și voi fi fericit._


End file.
